


Hard-Bitten

by whichclothes



Series: Biteverse [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichclothes/pseuds/whichclothes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt-- Post-series. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post a chapter each day. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)  for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Hard-Bitten (1/11)**_  
**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter: **1/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post a chapter each day. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)  for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

 

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00022wsf/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter One**

 

There was nothing like Chicago sewers in the summertime.

Thank the gods.

Because he’d visited a sewer or two in his time, but this was horrific. The stench was beyond awful, and if he’d had anything to eat for dinner he would have lost it long ago. They were going to love him when he returned to the hotel with this reek permeating his skin. He was just going to have to burn his clothing. And then there were the local residents. The junkies who’d been too wasted to do more than follow him with their hollow eyes. The crazy homeless guy with the aluminum foil hat who’d taken one look at Xander and his patch, and started screeching about Cyclops aliens invading the planet. The animal that scurried by and was either an enormous rat or a hideous dog. Or maybe some kind of demon. An alligator or two might be comforting right now.

He hadn’t started out down here. He’d begun with more obvious places for Spike to hang out—demon bars and whorehouses and suckhouses—but found no sign of him. But Spike had a way of drawing attention to himself wherever he went, and Xander eventually found a couple of Yarbnies who admitted they’d seen him a few weeks back. That led him to a specific bar, a seedy dive that somehow reminded him of the cantina scene in _Star Wars_. He’d scowled around and dropped Slayers’ names ominously until a group of purplish things with wings said they’d seen him down in the sewers. An ugly furry guy who looked like a mutant monkey backed up their story, as did a vamp with a bad overbite and a Russian accent.

So he’d gone to the sewers with a stake in his back pocket and a flashlight in his hand. It turned out that there were a whole lot of tunnels in the Windy City. The purple guys had given him a general area, though, and he’d come down in mid-afternoon, figuring Spike at least wouldn’t be anywhere out in the open then. He wandered for hours, getting pretty much hopelessly lost, seeing way more of the guts of this city than he’d ever wanted to.

And then, as he hesitated at the intersection of two major lines, he thought he saw something hunched in the gloom. “Spike?” he said. There was no reply other than the echo of his own voice. Still, there was something about the way this figure was bent into itself, something about the angle at which it sat.

Cautiously, he stepped closer. “Spike?” he said again, and still there was no answer. But now he could tell it was definitely a person, a person dressed in black and huddled against the wall, head against knees and arms protectively over head.

A few more feet, and he could make out details. Long leather duster, caked in grime. Scuffed heavy boots. Pale, almost delicate hands, the nails speckled with the vestiges of black polish.

At first he’d thought the person might be asleep, but now he saw that the entire body was trembling, as if the person were terrified. Even if this wasn’t Spike, he had to find out what was wrong, didn’t he?

Moving very slowly, he closed the gap between them, until his own filthy Nikes were nearly against the man. He bent down, gently touched one hand to a shaking shoulder, and, in a voice barely over a whisper, repeated the vampire’s name.

The person burst upwards, and Xander stumbled back, nearly falling. His flashlight went flying out of his hand. He had just enough time to see the face before him, almost if it were frozen in a flash photograph, and sure enough, that was Spike. But oh, shit, that was Spike in game-face, and the vampire was roaring and launching himself at Xander. Then Xander was flat on his back in the fetid muck, the air knocked out of his lungs, Spike pinning him in place with the weight of his body. Before Xander could even gather the breath to scream, sharp teeth were descending towards his neck, were tearing into him.

Back when he was in school, his father would glance at his report card, curl his lip in disgust, and call him an empty-headed little shit. Xander learned to duck the blow that always followed. The truth was, he wasn’t empty-headed at all. In fact, he was full-headed, too full-headed. He would sit in the classroom and think about, say, Cordelia, and how far she was likely to let him go during their next session in the closet or behind the stacks of books, and how he could persuade her to go a little farther, and whether his desire for her to go farther was actually outweighed by his being scared half to death at the thought of it, and, speaking of death, weren’t they supposed to patrol tonight, and he hoped there were no more Mnunga demons, not like last time, because then he’d ended up with all that disgusting green stuff all over him, and what _was_ that stuff anyway, he probably didn’t want to know, and how come it was always him who ended up covered in toxic demon goo, not too unlike the goo his chemistry teacher was currently swirling around in a beaker, and wow, the chem teacher was kind of hot, but, oh, hot science teacher, don’t go there, Miss Cortez might be another giant bug thing who wanted to mate with him and then eat him and that was not of the good, well, not the eating part anyway, but maybe the mating part, except not with a bug, no, with a nice, warm, soft girl, ormaybeahardsexyboyohfuckhedidnotthinkthat, girl, yes GIRL, like Cordelia or Buffy or Willow, no, not going there either, definitely not Willow, but like Cordelia or Buffy except with Buffy there was the whole Angel thing, and Angel was kind of hot—gah! No! Vampire! Male vampire! Not hot!—but yeah, Cordelia, and why was Devoto over there giving him the evil eye, that prick wasn’t going to try to bully him again after class was he, but if he did the Xan-man would just smoothly walk by because that kind of stuff was beneath him, couldn’t touch him at all, no way, because he killed demons dammit and Cordelia Chase was his girlfriend and—Shit. Did Miss Cortez just say something about a test tomorrow?

See? Full-headed.

Was it any wonder he tended to have troubles managing to conjugate French verbs?

So now, as the life was being drained from him, one swallow at a time, he thought about how this was exactly how he’d expected to die, except for the Spike part. He hadn’t expected to die at Spike’s fangs for nearly a decade now. And he really didn’t want to die. Not now. Well, not ever, if he could help it. But, Christ, this felt really good. Why hadn’t anyone told him how good this felt? He took back everything evil he ever thought about Riley Finn paying to get bitten. He’d pay for this. If he actually had any of his own money, that is, and not just a stingy expense account from the Council, because the Council probably wouldn’t be very pleased to shell out dough for vamps to feed off him. But, hey! They didn’t have to, because right now Spike was doing it for free. Xander was pretty sure he was actually straining his hips upward against the body astride him, and he was about to come in his pants. That was going to be really embarrassing when they found his dried-out husk of a corpse, and then they did the autopsy or whatever and discovered semen in his briefs, so maybe he should try to think about baseball right now, but he wasn’t sure if that worked with vamp bites anyway, and, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—

With a terrible howling cry, Spike pulled himself away.

He got up, stumbled, got up again, and ran, deeper into the sewer. Xander staggered to his feet, too, he wasn’t sure whether to chase after the retreating vampire or run away, but either was pretty much out of the question anyway. Lightheaded and dizzy, he slumped heavily against the wall.

“Spike!” he called weakly.

But Spike never even looked back.

When he went looking next time, he’d carry his stake in his hand.

 

The Irony Fairy had been very generous lately.

Dead Boy called Buffy for help. Help for Spike, of all people! He’d sent Spike off on some sort of errand, and then didn’t hear from him again. He insisted that something had gone wrong, that this wasn’t just Captain Peroxide’s normal not-overly-reliable ways. Couldn’t go after him himself because, as usual, some sort of apocalypse was looming over LA. But Buffy couldn’t go either, not with the baby due in less than a month, and boy wouldn’t Xander have loved to see the look on Angel’s face when he got _that_ bit of news.

Willow would have gone if Buffy had asked her to. And if she hadn’t got her magics all screwed up the previous week fighting the latest apocalypse in _their_ neck of the woods. Wouldn’t have that fixed up for a couple of months yet, she said.

And Giles. Wouldn’t have wanted to go, but might have if Buffy made that doe-eyed pouting face at him. But he had some big important Watcher something to work on, so he was out, too.

So that left Expendable Guy himself flying around the globe to a city he didn’t like in search of a vampire he couldn’t stand. And when he’d finally found him, the fucker had bit him.

Xander wished the Irony Fairy would lay off for a while.

 

It took two days for Xander to recover. He didn’t think Spike had actually taken that much blood. Maybe a little more than one of those nice Red Cross ladies with the cookies and juice. But he’d been jetlagged to begin with, and his back was bruised pretty well from the fall, and he just wasn’t all that keen to go stalking around in shit tunnels looking for psychovamp. In fact, he probably would have just got on the next plane back to England, except he kept picturing the look on Spike’s face as he tore himself away from Xander’s neck. He’d still been vamped out, his fangs dripping with blood—Xander’s blood!—but his yellow eyes had held horror and fear. And that sound he made! Xander thought that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

So Xander spent two days soaking in the hotel room tub, cursing the tiny little cakes of soap and the itty-bitty bottles of shampoo. He watched pay-for-view porn on the tv. He revived his iron levels by ordering steaks from room service and washing them down with lots of beer—which, strictly speaking, did nothing for his red cell count, but sure tasted good. And somebody else was paying, the Watchers Council or Angel, he didn’t know and didn’t care.

Around lunchtime on the second day, he called London. Buffy and Willow were sympathetic and worried about Spike, but neither had any clue what was going on. So he called Giles, who “good lorded” satisfyingly over his tale of the attack, and promised to do some research, but with so little to go on wasn’t very optimistic. So then Xander took a deep, resigned breath and dialed LA, at least slightly satisfied that he’d almost certainly be waking the big vamp up.

The phone rang nearly a half dozen times, and then there was a crashing sound, like when someone drops the receiver. “Huh? Wha?” said the voice on the other end, and Xander smiled to himself.

“Angel?”

“Yeah. Whozzit?”

“Xander Harris.”

“Xander!” Angel suddenly sounded a lot more alert. “Where are you?”

“Hog butcher for the world.”

“Have you found Spike?”

“You could say that. What the hell’s wrong with him?”

“What’s—What do you mean? What’s happened?”

Xander sighed. Looked like he was getting more questions than answers here. He told Angel about looking for the wayward vampire, and about the sewers, and about what happened there. Angel was silent, except for one loud exclamation when Xander told him about the bite—“Fuck!”—and another—“Shit!”—when Xander described the expression on Spike’s face, just before he’d run off.

“So you want to tell me what’s going on, Angel? Seeing as how I still have vampire spit imbedded in my skin?”

There was a brief pause. “Look, Xander, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. If I’d had any idea he was going to come after you like that—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’re all broken up over it. C’mon. What do you know?”

“Not much.” There was a loud puff of air. “He drove there to pick up this talisman we needed. The Eye of Raflos. He was supposed to come right back with it.”

“You couldn’t have just had someone Fed-Ex it to you?”

“No. Someone had to negotiate for it in person.”

“You sent _Spike_ to negotiate? Kind of like sending an elephant to tapdance, isn’t it?”

Angel kind of groaned. “I didn’t have any choice. Besides, he’s not that bad. He can be…fuck. Never mind. So he went, and that was it. He was supposed to call when he got the thing, but he never did. I can’t get any answer on his cell. After a couple of days I contacted the guy who was supposed to sell us the Eye, but he said Spike never showed up. That’s all I know.”

Well, that was helpful. “How did you know he didn’t just take off somewhere?”

“He’s not—he hasn’t been that flaky for a while, Xander. Besides, if he did, he didn’t drive. His car was impounded in Chicago about a week after he left here. It sat on the street without being moved for too long.”

“Do you know where they found it?”

“Yeah. Hang on.”

There were some rustling noises, and the smack of something hitting the floor, then more rustling. Then Angel was back on the phone, reading off an address. Xander dutifully wrote it down.

“Xander? The situation here in LA’s not pretty. There’s this clan of Efrehok demons, and they’re planning—“

“Save it. I got it. I’m not gonna get any relief from vamp retrieval, am I?”

“No. Sorry. Look, I’ll…I’ll owe you a big one, okay?”

Great. Xander rubbed his eye tiredly. “Fine. But if you find out anything else in the meantime, let me know.”

“I will.”

“Okay. B—“

“Wait!”

“What?”

“One more thing. I still need the Eye. Think you can get it and send it to me? Whatever that guy wants, I can get him. I really need this thing.”

“Anything else I can do for you, Angel? Wash your car? Do your taxes?”

“Be careful, Xander.”

 

Xander decided to deal with the talisman first. The irony of him trying to wheel and deal over an eye was not lost on him. Damn Fairy.

The guy who had it was named Danny Vega. He was a wizard of some sort, and he owned an occult bookshop off of Wabash. It was within walking distance of the hotel, actually, so Xander slapped a bandage on his neck—never travel without a first aid kit, that was his motto—and tromped over there through air hot and humid as a sauna. He was damp and crabby by the time he got there. The store was small and slightly cramped, but it was air-conditioned, and it smelled nice. Like flowers.

Vega was younger than Xander had expected, and not at all Dumbledoresque. Actually, he was short and muscular, with thick black hair. He looked like more like a soccer player than a magician.

“Can I help you?” he asked, smiling.

“I think so. I’m here for the, uh, Eye of Raflos? Angel sent me.”

Vega’s smile grew warmer. “Ah! But you’re not Spike.” He gestured outside, at the sun-drenched street from which Xander had just entered.

Xander snorted. “No. Name’s Xander Harris.” He came closer to the counter and they shook hands.

“Angel called a while back asking about Spike. Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know,” Xander replied. He didn’t really want to get into the whole thing. “You still haven’t seen him, huh?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. The, um, Eye?”

“Of course. Just a minute.” Vega disappeared for a moment through a doorway behind the counter. He came back holding a red drawstring bag. Untying the top carefully, he upended the bag over the counter, and a small object fell out. It looked like—ugh—a human eye, fine veins and all. Kind of greenish iris. But there was a sparkly red stone of some kind set where the pupil would be, and a small silver hoop was inserted in the top. A fine chain ran through the hoop.

“Do you know what this does?” Vega asked.

“No. Don’t particularly want to know, actually. Just doing a guy a favor.”

“I understand. Now, the terms of the purchase?”

“Yeah, um, whatta ya want for it?” Xander hated to haggle. He’d had to do it a lot when he was in Africa, and it always made him feel uncomfortable, and he always came away feeling as if he’d probably been cheated. In this case, he had absolutely no clue what this little trinket was worth.

Vega looked at him consideringly. “I was going to ask forty grand.” Xander had to stop his jaw from dropping. “But I’ll tell you what. I can let you have it for thirty…if you’ll go out to dinner with me tomorrow.”

Xander felt himself turning bright red. “I…uh…didn’t realize a date with me was worth ten k,” he stammered.

Vega raised one eyebrow and grinned. “I’m willing to take that chance.”

Xander blushed even more, if that were possible. “I’m flattered. Really. But I’m not gay. Sorry.”

Vega’s smile didn’t falter. “Doesn’t matter to me. I can be pretty persuasive, you know.”

Deep in his heart, Xander had an inkling that not all that much persuasion would be required. “I’ll bet you can,” he replied. “But right now…I really need to deal with the whole missing Spike thing.”

The wizard looked disappointed, but he nodded. “I understand. I’ll compromise. How about thirty-five thousand and a kiss?”

Xander blinked at him. For all he knew, the stupid thing was only worth twenty bucks. But Angel said whatever Vega wanted. And the man did have a full bottom lip, and—“Okay. But I’ve never smooched a guy before, so no guarantees about the quality, right?”

Vega laughed and caught at Xander’s hand, which was on the counter. “It’s not all that different from kissing a girl—as long as your partner has shaved recently.”

“What’s the deal? Why are you so interested in me anyway? I’m not exactly irresistible.”

“I don’t know. There’s something about you, Xander Harris. Something really intriguing. Besides,” he shrugged, “I like a little challenge.”

The term “demon magnet” popped into Xander’s head, and it occurred to him that Vega might not be quite as human as he looked. Before Xander could do anything about it, though, the other man had come around the counter and wrapped Xander in his arms. This close, he smelled of aftershave and herbs. It wasn’t unpleasant. He tipped his head upward—Xander was several inches taller—and pressed in close, touching his soft lips against Xander’s.

It felt…nice.

When Vega applied just a bit more pressure, Xander allowed his own lips to part a little, and then he was tasting another man for the first time, the flavor of salt and mint and it wasn’t bad at all. In fact it was pretty damn good.

Five thousand dollar kiss, Xander thought, and he rubbed his hands against the strong, broad back and clenched the other man’s body closer to his until they were touching from chest to toe. Vega dug his fingers slightly into Xander’s hips and moaned quietly.

When they pulled apart, they were both a little breathless.

“Worth every penny,” Vega said, his eyes sparkling.

“Guh,” said Xander, with as much eloquence as he could muster.

Vega walked back around the counter and scooped the Eye back into the bag. He held it out toward Xander.

“Um…the, uh, thirty-five grand?” Xander said.

“Have Angel call me with the credit card number, or wire me the payment. I’m sure you’re good for it.”

Xander took the bag. “Um, thanks.”

The wizard beamed at him. “Anytime. I’m sorry Spike is missing, but I’m not at all sorry Angel sent you in place of a vampire. When you get this Spike thing settled, if you want to take me up on that dinner after all, you know where to find me.”

Xander smiled back. “Okay.”

He headed for the door, but before he pulled it open, Vega said, “Xander? If I can help find him, let me know.”

Xander turned and nodded. “Thanks.”

And he walked back out into the oppressive sun still tasting the man on his lips.

 

[Chapter Two](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/51702.html)


	2. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Hard-Bitten (2/11)**_  
**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 2/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00029s7b/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Two**

 

Spike’s car was impounded not far from where Xander found him, so Xander had some hope that the vampire wasn’t wandering far, and that he might find him nearby. But four days later he’d seen even more miles of sewer tunnels, and there was still no sign of Spike. He figured he’d done enough. He felt like he’d have to bathe in acid to get the smell out of his skin and hair; he’d seen some seriously creepy creatures that should always stay far, far below ground; and eventually he was going to have to deal with the fact that he been turned on both by being bitten and by being kissed by a man.

He called Angel and told him he was going to throw in the towel. And then he wasn’t sure whether it was Angel’s quiet, pleading words, or the note of true desperation he could sense even from 1700 miles away, but he agreed to give it just a couple more days.

On the second of those days, nearly two weeks after he’d first arrived in Chicago, he saw a motionless dark lump hunched against a wall, far from the tunnel entry. He couldn’t even tell if it was a person or simply discarded trash of some kind. He took a deep breath, clutched the stake tightly, and walked closer. Aside from his footsteps, the only sound was the quiet _drip drip_ of water falling from the ceiling and hitting the brown puddles on the floor.

He approached even more cautiously than last time, ready to plunge that stake home at any second. When he was very near, he shined his flashlight directly on the mystery object. “Spike?” he said, feeling a definite sense of déjà vu. The man—because it was a man, and not a pile of garbage--shifted slightly, allowing Xander a glimpse of his face.

Xander gasped.

It was Spike. But skeletally thin, his skin stretched so tightly over his frame that it was a wonder his cheekbones weren’t poking right through. His blue eyes were dull, and his hair and face were caked with grime and blood. At least some of the blood was probably his own, because there was a huge open gash above his forehead, and another down the right side of his face. He lifted one arm slowly toward Xander—it was shaking violently—and croaked out a word that might have been _please_.

And then his arm fell and he slumped farther, as if that small effort had been too much for him and he’d lost consciousness.

Now that Xander had found him, and Spike didn’t seem about to eat him, what the hell was Xander supposed to do? He could try and get help. But there weren’t any vamp ambulance services, and all his friends were on another continent, and in any case, he wasn’t so certain that if he left, he wouldn’t come back to find just a small pile of dust. He couldn’t just leave Spike here. But if he tried to carry Spike out of here, he was going to have to let go of the stake, and that would be bad if Spike got the munchies again.

Xander stood, looking uncertainly at the small figure at his feet. Then he sighed and stuffed the sharp wood in one back pocket and the flashlight in the other. Just enough weak light filtered through the storm drains for him to see what he was doing.

He spoke softly. “Spike, this is Xander. Xander Harris. Remember me? You crashed at my place a couple times, tried to kill me once or twice, we fought a few apocalypses together?”

He wasn’t particularly surprised when Spike didn’t respond. He bent down and tried to haul the vampire to his feet, but he was dead weight. No pun intended. So instead Xander scooped him up and heaved him over his shoulder. He began the long walk back to his rental car, thankful for all the hours he’d spent working out since he returned from Africa, hoping like hell that Spike didn’t wake up with his fangs within biting distance of Xander’s ass.

Spike was light. Much lighter than a grown vamp ought to be. But still, Xander had to stop several times and plunk him down on the ground and rest. Spike never so much as twitched on his own, and maybe the slow progress was a good thing, because it was just about dusk when they reached the exit. Xander eyed the half-block or so between them and the rental car, and considered the chances that Spike could make it without combusting. Maybe if he waited just a few more minutes. As carefully as he could, he set Spike down right near the broken grate at the entrance, and then squatted against the curved wall. He was completely drenched with sweat and other liquids, and salty tracks were running down his forehead and under his patch, stinging and itching in the socket. He didn’t want to wipe his face, though, not with the filth that covered his hands.

A young couple walked by, hand in hand, giggling together. They didn’t see him skulking in the tunnel. Which was good—he’d probably have scared the crap out of them if they did.

The couple was gone and the sun was no longer visible. A swarm of fireflies appeared near a clump of weeds nearby, and Xander smiled. He’d never seen one when he was a kid—they didn’t have them in California—and he still found them a nice surprise as an adult.

He glanced at Spike, who was on his back, his head twisted slightly toward Xander. His eyes were closed and he looked, well, dead.

With a groan, Xander hoisted himself to his feet and once again picked Spike up, this time cradling him in his arms. Spike flopped bonelessly and, as Xander stepped out of the tunnel and into the slightly brighter light outside, he saw that the vampire’s clothes were shredded, and so was the flesh underneath. Xander shook his head in disbelief. He’d seen Spike take on some mighty big demons and come out of the scrap virtually unscathed. What the hell did this to him?

Xander had to put Spike down again when he got to the car. He unlocked the back door and carefully slid Spike across the back seat. Avis was not going to be happy with the state of its car, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d returned a rental in questionable condition. He always paid for the damage waiver.

Xander had been keeping Magic Wipes and a spare set of clothes in the car so he didn’t have to walk into the hotel smelling quite so much like roadkill. Now, he cleansed his hands and face and quickly shucked his t-shirt, shoes, and jeans, leaving only a pair of boxers on. It felt really good to be bare-skinned right now, but he didn’t need a public indecency charge at the moment, so he slipped on the clean clothes from the passenger seat. Angel was so going to have to pay for a new wardrobe for him when this was over.

He thought he heard a moan from the back as he drove, and glanced in the rear view mirror. For a split second, he startled when he saw nobody there. Duh.

The hotel had an underground parking garage. He was very thankful there was no one else around when he pulled Spike from the car, and even more thankful that the elevator car was empty. Anybody who saw what he was carrying in his arms would assume he was a murderer and run screaming away, probably.

His room was on the tenth floor. He juggled Spike awkwardly as he unlocked it, and then heaved a huge sigh of relief when he was finally able to drop the vampire onto the bed. Then he just stood there, uncertain what to do next. He was a little worried—okay, a lot worried—that Spike would wake up and come after him again, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. Even if he could get some ropes or chains or something, there was nothing really strong enough to secure them to. Obviously, he should have stayed at a hotel with a Bondage Suite. Maybe he should just call Angel and tell him to come pick up his grandkid.

Then Spike definitely did moan, and he stirred just a little, his mouth falling open. Suddenly he looked very small and vulnerable. Xander swore under his breath. Clearly, he was going to have to play nurse.

Okay. He’d patched up wounded friends and Slayers plenty of times before, and he’d been patched up himself more times than he could count. He knew what to do.

He walked slowly to the side of the bed. Speaking soothingly, he touched Spike’s shoulder. Spike just lay motionless. As gently as he could, Xander pulled the duster off of him. He gave it a quick look. It was indescribably filthy, but mostly undamaged. He hoped there was a spectacularly talented leather cleaner somewhere in Chicagoland. He certainly couldn’t bring himself to just toss the thing—it seemed almost like an extension of Spike’s body. So he folded it and set it on the floor in the corner.

The rest of Spike’s clothes were trashed and had to go. He began by unlacing and removing the boots. Spike’s bare feet were bloody and bruised, as if he hadn’t taken the boots off in a long time. Next came the t-shirt—black, of course—and Xander winced when bits of the cotton stuck to Spike’s wounds and then pulled away. He tried not to look too closely at the state of Spike’s body. He’d have to face that soon enough anyway.

Finally, he unbuckled Spike’s belt, unfastened the button and zipper, and slowly peeled away the remains of his jeans. And now he had a naked, unconscious, battered, dirty vampire on his bed. Just what he always wanted.

It occurred to him that if Spike did wake up, he was going to need to eat, and Xander was the only thing edible in sight. Fuck. Where was he going to find blood that wasn’t his own?

Time for grandpa to help.

“Angel? Xander.”

“Can you give it just one more day, please? I’ll—“

“I’ve got him.”

Angel let out a long, slow breath. “Put him on the phone. Please.”

“Can’t. He’s out cold. He’s…in pretty rough shape.”

“What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Nothing! I found him like this. You think I’m going to drag myself through shit for a week just so I can beat him up?”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“Look, I’m gonna do what I can for him. But he needs to feed, preferably not on me. Any ideas?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Give me your hotel and room number. I’ll have some delivered tonight.”

“Monaco, 1026. Any tips on demon doctoring?”

“Not really. If we don’t dust, we usually heal okay. I’m gonna see if I can find human blood. It works better. Do you have a microwave so you can heat it?”

“No.”

“All right. Cold is okay.”

“There’s a coffee maker. Maybe I can soak the bags in hot water.”

“Good. That’ll work.”

“Angel, if he wakes up and drains me, I’m gonna haunt your ass for all eternity.”

“Fair enough. Call me if there are any developments, okay?”

“Fine.”

As Xander hung up, he wondered again at the concern in Angel’s voice. He obviously really cared what happened to Spike. That was weird. He’d never heard either of them say anything nice about the other. But, then, according to Buffy, the two of them had been fighting bad guys together for some time now. And ever since Angel had lost his crew in some sort of complicated fuck-up involving evil lawyers, Spike was really all he had. Huh. Xander almost felt sorry for the guy. Maybe the end of the world really was near.

Xander was pretty sure that infection wasn’t an issue to worry about with vamps, but the grime certainly wasn’t going to help Spike any, and he stank. So Xander filled the tub with very warm water, and then carried Spike into the bathroom. Spike’s head lolled against Xander’s chest. Xander gently lowered him into the tub.

It took a long time and several changes of bathwater to get Spike remotely clean. Xander couldn’t help wincing as the vampire’s true condition was revealed under the bright bathroom lights. Every bone stood out in stark relief, and his belly was as concave as a bowl. His entire body was liberally covered in purple-black bruises and deep slashes and gouges. Xander tasted bile in the back of his throat when he dabbed at a particularly nasty wound with the washcloth, and he actually caught a glimpse of white bone and pinkish innards. He’d seen worse before, both in Sunnydale and, especially, in Africa, but never on someone who was still breathing, still capable of feeling pain.

Every so often, he glanced up at Spike’s face, and once or twice he thought he saw a flash of blue, but apart from that, there were no signs of, well, life.

His back and knees were stiff and sore, and his arms and shoulders, tired from carrying Spike, were starting to join in on the ache chorus as well, when there was a knock at the door. He started slightly, glanced quickly at Spike, and went to answer it.

When he looked through the peephole, he saw a young guy in a baseball cap. A guy who looked suspiciously blue-tinged. “Who is it?” Xander called.

“Delivery,” came the squeaky-voiced reply. The kid held up a large plastic sack. It looked heavy.

Xander unlocked the door and the delivery boy handed the bag over. “It’s paid for,” he said. “Our card’s in the bag. Boss said call when you need more.”

“Great. Uh, hang on.” He set the bag down and pulled out his wallet. How much did one tip for blood delivery? He pulled out a ten and the kid looked happy enough with that.

“Thanks, mister,” he said, and took off.

Xander had already filled the coffee maker with water. Now he turned it on, and, while the water heated, went back to check on his patient.

Spike was awake.

He was still in the tub, his body tense, and when he caught sight of Xander his eyes went wide and round. “H-H-Harris?” he stammered.

“Hi, Spike.”

“What—where--?”

“We’re in my room at the Monaco. Angel sent me for you. You’re hurt. You know that, right?”

Spike looked down at himself, his gaze uncomprehending. “I…how….”

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay now,” Xander said with more confidence than he actually felt.

Spike just gaped at him.

“Look, I’m just gonna go—“

Faster than he could see, Spike flew out of the tub, splashing water everywhere. Xander was trapped back against the counter, and Spike was right there, and he was—

He was throwing himself to his knees at Xander’s feet. He wrapped his matchstick arms tightly around Xander’s legs and pressed his head into Xander’s stomach and started to sob like his heart was breaking.

“Don’t go. God, please, please don’t leave me. Please!”

Xander stood there stiffly for a minute, his hands up in the air, the water from Spike’s body soaking through his clothes. But Spike just continued to cry and plead incoherently, and something shifted in Xander’s chest.

He clutched the back of Spike’s head, burying his fingers in the wet curls, and held the disconsolate creature close. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to help you, all right? I’m not going.”

Eventually, Spike’s weeping died away, but still he clung to Xander, shivering miserably. Xander stroked his scalp. “Hey. Let’s get you dried off. You’re gonna catch your death. I’ve got some nummy A-neg waiting for you, too.”

Spike finally looked up at him, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed. “Blood?”

“Yeah. Lots of it.”

Spike closed his eyes for a moment as if in relief. But then he opened them again. “You’ll stay, yeah?”

“Right at your side.”

Xander helped Spike to his feet, but Spike leaned heavily against him and almost certainly would have fallen without the support. Trying not to slip on the puddled floor, Xander helped him sit on the closed toilet. He wrapped one of the big white towels around Spike’s shoulders and used another to pat his legs and torso dry. Spike just sat there weakly, looking like he was going to collapse any second.

Xander slowly led Spike into the main room—half carried him, really. The bed was still covered in grime that had transferred from Spike’s body, so Xander instead took him to the big armchair in the corner. He sat Spike on it, grabbing a pillow from the bed to help support his head, and arranging the towel across his lap like blanket.

Spike went rigid as Xander stepped away, but he didn’t go far, only enough to pour the hot water into the ice bucket, and then plunk a couple of packets of blood inside to warm. He brought a third packet back to Spike. “This one’s cold, but the next ones’ll be toastier, okay?”

Spike nodded.

Xander used his pocketknife to cut the blood bag open. He poured it into one of the hotel glasses. Spike reached for it, but his hands were so palsied that Xander had to hold it for him while he drank. It was oddly endearing to watch him swallow, like helping a small child. Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head at the taste of the stuff, and he eagerly drained the glass.

By the time Spike finished off all three bags of blood, he was holding the cup himself, and was looking a little stronger and healthier. “You want more?” Xander asked.

Spike shook his head. “Not…not yet. In a bit, yeah?” They were the first words he’d said since begging Xander to stay.

“Okay. But you’ll remember there’s plenty more, right? And you don’t have to snack from me?” Xander’s hand went to his neck, where, truthfully, only a tiny little mark remained from Spike’s attack.

Spike’s eyes went big again. “Did I…I…I bite you?”

“Yeah. About a week ago.”

“Oh, fuck, Harris. I’m…fuck.” Spike hung his head, his pinched face a mask of desolation.

Xander knelt beside the chair and put his hand on the armrest. “Spike? What’s wrong?”

But when Spike looked up again, his eyes were wild. He tried to push himself out of the chair, and Xander caught him as he immediately collapsed. “Whoa! Whoa! You’re not up to being up yet.”

Spike hung in his arms, still cold and naked, his face drawn in pain.

“Let’s get you to the bed, okay?”

While Spike was eating, Xander had stripped the comforter off the bed, and was relieved to find the bedding underneath still clean. Now, he carried Spike over, ignoring the groans of protest from his own body, and tucked him beneath the white sheets. Spike looked lost.

“Harris,” he rasped. “You have to tie me up. Or just sodding stake me. I might…might hurt you again.”

“I didn’t spend all this time just to dust you, and you can’t even stand up right now. I think I’m pretty safe. What the fuck’s going on, Spike?”

Spike shut his eyes and was silent for so long, Xander almost thought he’d fallen asleep. But then, without opening his lids again, he whispered, “Was the bloody wizard, wasn’t it?”

“What wizard?”

“The one I was off to see. Follow the yellow brick road and all that rot.” Spike barked out a painful-sounding laugh, and Xander wondered how much sanity the vampire retained.

“Spike? What are you—“

“Peaches sent me here to see a wizard, to bargain for a trinket. Eye of Raflos. So I drove halfway across the bloody continent, and I went to the tosser’s shop. Started to dicker with him, and then—“

“But he said you never showed up!”

Spike finally pried his eyes open. “You talked to him?”

“Um, yeah. They sent me here to find you, but Angel still needed the Eye, so I went to Vega’s.”

Spike struggled to sit up but failed, falling back against the pillows. “What happened there?”

“No, wait! You tell me first what happened to you.”

“We were negotiating. He wanted forty thousand for the thing. Peaches would have paid it, too, but I tried to talk the price down a bit.” Spike paused for a moment, and Xander realized he must be exhausted. His voice was weak when he continued. “He grabbed something from under the counter and clapped it onto my arm. Hurt, like something stinging me. Then I was on my knees, being sick. And then…I don’t know what happened. I might have blacked out. Woke up in the sewers.”

Xander was feeling kind of dizzy and weak himself about now. He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress next to Spike. “What’d he do to you?”

“Dunno. But…but since then, I’m having trouble keeping control of myself. Of my emotions, yeah?”

“You seem okay now.”

“I do all right for a bit. And then….” He clenched his jaw and looked away.

“Why didn’t you call Angel and tell him what was up?”

“Tried. But my mobile phone is gone, and when I came out of the tunnels to find a phone…. You aren’t the only one I bit.”

“Fuck.”

“Didn’t want to. Couldn’t stop….” His voice was so quiet now Xander had to strain to hear it.

“Spike, when you got me, you did stop. You ran away before you took too much. Did you do that with the other person?”

Spike looked at him, stricken. “Dunno. It’s…fuzzy.”

“Fuck,” Xander repeated. “So then you were afraid to come out again.” Spike nodded slightly. “How’d you get so banged up?”

“Things live down here. Demons. I expect I started some fight I shouldn’t have. Don’t remember.”

“What have you been eating?”

“You.”

“Nothing else?”

“Tried a rat or two.” He chuckled bitterly. “Taking after my grandsire, there. Couldn’t stomach it.”

Xander’s head was spinning. This entire conversation was raising a lot more questions than answers. It had been a long day, it was late, he was sore, and he still reeked from the day’s adventures. And he’d just realized that the only place to sleep was next to the deranged vampire. And the deranged vampire himself looked like he was about to fade away to nothing.

He rubbed his face and stood. “I’m gonna shower for about three hours, and then I’m gonna get some sleep, and there will be no gnawing on me, right?”

Spike nodded.

“’Kay. And in the morning there’s lots more blood for you in the fridge and we’re going to call grandpa and get this all straightened out.”

He started for the bathroom.

“Harris?”

He stopped and looked back at Spike, who had an odd expression on his face.

“Thank you,” Spike said. “For finding me, even after I….”

Xander suddenly understood that Spike hadn’t really expected anyone to come looking for him, and he felt an unexpected rush of sympathy for the formerly evil undead. When Xander had run into trouble a couple times in Africa, Buffy and Willow had hightailed it over to help him, and he knew they’d do it again. All Spike had was Angel. And now, he guessed, he had Xander too.

Xander thought about telling this to Spike, but the vampire had already fallen asleep.

 

[Chapter Three](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/51841.html)


	3. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Hard-Bitten (3/11)**_  
**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 3/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/0002a362/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Three**

 

It was nearly noon when Xander awoke. A vampire was six inches away, staring at him, and Xander was ravenous. He hadn’t had anything since lunch the day before. He ordered about half of the room service menu and, while he waited impatiently for it to arrive, warmed some blood for Spike and watched him drink it.

Spike was definitely looking better. His face looked less like an animated skull, and the injuries that Xander could see—the gashes on his face and arms and chest—were beginning to close and heal over. The deeper wounds on his abdomen were covered by the sheet, but Xander didn’t really feel like inspecting them now.

His food arrived and he dug in. When he noticed Spike eyeing his fries he brought the plate over to the bed and sat down. He gestured at the food and Spike grinned a little as he snagged some potatoes. Xander watched him lick the salt off.

When all the food was gone and Xander felt pleasantly full, he lay back next to Spike and told him of his adventures in Chicago. He skipped the part about the kiss, though, simply explaining that Vega had sold him the Eye and Xander had shipped the creepy little thing off to Angel. Neither of them had any idea exactly what the wizard had done to Spike or why. If he didn’t want Angel to have the Eye, why offer to sell it at all? And why did he allow Xander to purchase it without causing Xander any harm?

Spike seemed surprised when Xander told him Angel had seemed genuinely concerned about him. “Wanker didn’t come get me himself, though, did he? Got you to do it for him.”

“I guess he has another end of the world to stop.”

Spike snorted. “Hasn’t he always? But why did you agree to it? You obviously don’t live here.” He gestured around the hotel room.

“No. I live in London, more or less. Least, I have a room there.”

Spike blinked at him. “You came here from London. Why?”

Xander shrugged. “Buffy asked me to. As usual, I wasn’t especially needed for anything else, so….”

Spike just looked at him, so Xander got up and fetched his phone. It was the crack of dawn by vampire standards—Xander smiled wickedly—and it rang a long time before Angel finally answered with a mumbled, “Wha?”

“Wanna talk to Spike?”

“He’s awake?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a conversation otherwise. Hang on.”

Xander handed the phone over, and sat in the armchair as Spike told him the same story he’d told Xander. Xander could tell just from this end of the exchange that Angel didn’t have any more explanations than they did. After a while, Spike scowled and handed the phone back to Xander. “Pouf wants to talk to you now. Twat.” The last word was muttered and Xander was pretty sure it was meant for the vamp at the other end of the phone and not him.

“Yeah?”

“Xander, you’re not safe near him. You need to get away.”

“You’re going to come get him?”

“Still can’t.”

“I can bring him to you.”

“No. Not with everything that’s happening here. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“So I’m supposed to what, just abandon him?” Spike was staring angrily at the wall.

“He’s admitted he can’t control himself. Once he’s strong, he’ll bite you again, and maybe next time he won’t stop.”

“I’ve been defending myself against vampires for a long time, Angel. I can manage one more.”

“Xan—“

“No! Look, you dragged me here, I’m not about to just give up. See if you can find out what’s going on, okay?”

Angel was silent a moment. “Fine. Just be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name. Actually Lavelle is my middle name, but I like Careful better. Hey, did the Eye thing actually do what it was supposed to, or was that another trick?”

“It worked fine. If it hadn’t, I’d be dust now.”

“Huh.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Me too.”

He hung up and placed the phone on the desk. Spike wasn’t making eye contact, but was still glowering at a framed abstract painting that looked a little like pinkish cat vomit. “Twat’s right,” he growled. “Go away.”

“No.”

Now the death glare was turned on him. “Don’t be thick! You did your sodding duty, now you can scoot back to the other Scoobies. ‘M not an infant. Don’t need a minder.”

“If I leave now, where will you go?”

Spike opened his mouth, and then closed it. The answer was obvious. He had nowhere but the sewers, not if he didn’t want to risk killing again.

“I’m gonna stay. I think as long as we keep you well-fed, I’ll be fine. And we’ll find a way to fix this.”

“No. I can’t…. God….” Spike buried his face in his hands and began to sob again.

Xander’s heart broke.

This wasn’t the Spike he’d known for so long, the cocky little bastard who’d tried to kill him when he didn’t have a soul, and annoyed the crap out of him when he did. This was a man, naked and battered and alone, crying his heart out. Xander knew that that whatever the goddamn wizard did was at fault, but still, Spike was really feeling these feelings, magic or not.

Xander sat down on the bed and gathered Spike in his arms. Spike wrapped his arms around him as if he were drowning and Xander was a lifebuoy, and he shook and wept until Xander’s t-shirt was soaked through with tears and Spike sagged brokenly in his embrace.

With a snuffle, Spike released his grip and sat up. Xander let him go. Spike wiped his eyes with his arm. His face was a mixture of embarrassment, sorrow, and anger, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked down at the blanket.

“You know,” Xander said conversationally, as if he hadn’t just virtually had a lap full of bawling vampire, “once I was in Angola. You ever been to Angola?”

Spike shook his head slightly.

“Big country. I was smack dab in the middle of it. They’d just had a civil war, like, a year or two earlier, and everyone was dying, and there were scary guys with guns and knives everywhere. There was supposed to be a baby Slayer somewhere nearby, but nobody understood English and I couldn’t find her. And then I did, but she was sick. Cholera. She died about an hour after I got there. Her name was Makiese.

“I was supposed to go to Gabon next, where I could not speak French instead of not speaking Portuguese, but I was so tired. I think I had dengue fever, and my leg hurt because some guy had shot me a couple months before and it still hadn’t healed right, and my goddamn eye socket wouldn’t stop itching, and I realized I didn’t have a single friend on the whole fucking continent. I sort of fell apart.”

Spike was looking at him, his head slightly tilted, his eyes sharp.

“You know what happened? Makiese’s mother came up to me. She had no idea who the hell this crazy white guy was or why he was crying like a baby. She’d just lost her daughter, and I think a couple of her other kids were sick, too. She’s living in this tiny little hut, you know. And she puts her arms around me and sings me some kind of lullaby, I think, and _comforts_ me, Spike. Better than my own mother ever did. She patted my back and when I was all cried out she fed me and gave me a place to sleep that night. When I went to leave the next morning, she wouldn’t take any of my money.

“Even when you’ve got nothing, nothing at all, you can help someone else out. And then you have something.”

He got up and went to take a shower.

 

“Xander, do you know what time it is here?”

“I don’t even know what time it is _here_, Will.”

She sighed. “What’s up?”

“I found Spike.” The vampire in question was currently propped up on the bed, glass of blood in hand, eyes focused on the television.

“You did? That’s great, Xan! Is everything okay? ‘Cause you don’t sound so happy.”

“He’s…. We’ve got some problems.” And he told her the whole story, again skipping the part where he kissed the bad guy.

As soon as he finished she asked, “Where are you now?”

“My hotel.”

“Is he tied up? So he doesn’t bite you again, I mean, not in a kinky sort of way.”

He ignored the pleasant but unwelcome little tingle that that image sent through his body. “No. He’s not tied up, and he’s not gonna be. And I’m not going to leave him here, and he’s not going to eat me for dinner, okay? Can you guys just see if you can figure out a way to help?”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. When she did speak, her voice was subdued. “Okay. Maybe the coven knows something, since it sounds like a magic-type problem. And, uh, I’ll see if I can find something about this wizard guy, okay?”

“Thanks, Will.”

When he hung up, he saw that Spike was staring at him. “Problems at home?”

“Nothing big.”

“What’s Red up to these days?”

“The usual. She has a girlfriend. Another witch named Vanessa. Nice.”

“And the others?”

Spike really seemed to want to know. “Um, Dawnie’s in France, getting her doctorate, if you can believe it. And Giles is in London, with the Watchers Council.”

“The Slayer?” He was trying to be nonchalant, Xander could tell, but wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“She’s, um, good.”

Spike lifted an eyebrow.

“Pregnant. She’s pregnant, and the baby’s due any day now. Last I saw her she was mainlining chocolate ice cream.”

“Is it…human?”

Xander laughed, really laughed for the first time in quite a while. “Yeah. The father’s this totally normal guy—well, he’s English, so he’s still a little weird—who she met on the DLR. He’s an architect. They’ve been living together, like, three years now. They’ll probably get married eventually.”

“Does he treat her well?”

“Yeah. He does. He took the whole Slayer thing pretty well and everything. He’s a nice guy.”

Spike nodded gravely. “All right, then,” he said. “What about your demon girl?”

He didn’t know about Anya. Shit. “She died, Spike. Never made it out of the high school.” He could almost say it now without his voice catching.

“Sorry,” Spike said, and seemed to mean it. “So you round up new Slayers?”

“Yep. And, on occasion, missing vampires.” He smiled at Spike and, to his surprise, Spike smiled back.

“No little missus for you?”

“No. I was kinda seeing this girl for a while, but…no.”

Xander spent most of the rest of the day watching tv and fetching blood for Spike. Spike drank a lot, but it was working. By the time Xander ate some more room service and then was ready to call it a night, Spike could sit up unassisted and even take a few wobbly steps to the mini fridge to get his own refills. It occurred to Xander then that Spike didn’t have any clothes except his filthy duster. He made a mental note to deal with that the next day. Then he stripped off his own jeans and shirt, leaving just his boxers on. He and Spike fell asleep in front of some movie on HBO.

 

Housekeeping woke him the next morning with a knock at the door. “Just a minute!” he called, and pulled on his pants.

“Would you like your room cleaned?” the maid asked.

He thought for a second. The sheets were kind of dirty and they were out of clean towels. “Yeah. Can you wait just a sec?”

“Sure.”

He grabbed a pair of his own sweatpants and a red t-shirt, and helped Spike put them on. Spike only had to lean on him a little as he led the vampire to the armchair. Xander took a quick look around to make sure there were no unrinsed blood glasses lying around, and then he let the woman in.

“My…uh…friend’s sick. Can you sort of clean around us?”

“No problem,” she replied. “Do you need a doctor? I can have the front desk give you a referral.”

“No thanks. He’s…convalescing.”

She gave Spike a warm smile, which he returned. She didn’t seem to think it was strange that they had the curtains stretched tightly across the window. She did frown a little at the comforter in the corner, though.

“It got, um, dirty. Sorry.”

“Do you want another now?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay. I’ll bring a clean one tomorrow.”

It didn’t take her very long to put down fresh bedding and towels, and to wipe down the bathroom. Xander told her she could skip vacuuming.

After she left, Spike decided to stay in the chair for a while. Xander announced that he was going to go get some supplies. “Will you be okay?”

“Not a child, Xander. I’ll be fine.”

In the elevator, Xander smiled to himself. He couldn’t remember Spike ever calling him by his first name before.

It was bright and hot out, but Xander could see dark clouds building over the lake. Maybe a thunderstorm would cool things off a little. He considered having a little stroll down Wabash, maybe stopping in for a visit at a certain occult shop, but that would probably only bring trouble. Better to wait and see whether they could learn more first.

He began by dropping the duster at the cleaners. He promised them a big tip if they could repair the rips and get it stink-free. He could tell the girl wanted to ask what the hell happened to it, but she didn’t. He’d gone through the pockets first, but found only a set of car keys and a beat-up cigarette lighter. He pocketed those to return to Spike.

Next, he found a clothing store that had stuff Spike would wear and Giles wouldn’t have kittens over when he saw the credit card bill. He guessed at Spike’s size and stocked up on black, black, and more black. He got a few things for himself, too, since a good chunk of his wardrobe had fallen victim to the sewers. And he picked up some food at a little market, because room service got old pretty fast. The market had a small display of paperbacks, too, and, on a whim, he chose one to give to Spike. Maybe it’d cheer him up a little.

Oh gods, here he was, planning pick-me-ups for a vampire.

Heavily laden, he returned to the hotel. He just barely beat the storm—fat raindrops started to fall just as he was almost in the door. They had free wine in the lobby and he stopped for a minute to drink a glass. He was really more of a beer guy, but during his time in Africa he’d learned to take alcohol however he could find it.

Spike was still in the chair, looking like a child in Xander’s too-large clothes. Xander tossed him the bag with his new outfits and stuffed the food in the fridge. They were almost out of blood already. He’d have to call for more.

Spike was pawing through his purchases, not looking too displeased. “Will those work for you?” Xander asked.

“Yeah. Cheers.”

Then Xander plopped the book in his lap.

Spike picked it up, read the title, and scowled. Then he tossed it at Xander, but Xander had been ready for that, and he ducked and laughed.

“What? Don’t want to do some reading?”

“Not that rot!”

“Not a fan?” Xander couldn’t keep from giggling.

“Tried to eat that bog-trotting tosser when the book came out, but Peaches wouldn’t have it. I actually caught the old pouf more than once reading the bloody thing, but I wager he won’t admit it.”

“C’mon. It’s a classic.”

“Did _you_ ever read it?”

“Yeah. After I met him. I mean, guy has you eating bugs, you want to learn something about him.”

“Well, it’s all a load of bloody rubbish anyway. Sleeping in coffins. Ha.”

“You slept in a crypt.”

“But I had a proper bed, didn’t I? You remember that. I was in it, that time you came looking for the Slayer, not knowing she’d gone all see-through, and—“

“Gah! I remember. And we shall talk no more about it. Here.” He scooped up the book and dropped it in the trash can. “Bye-bye, Bram. Okay?”

Spike smirked, which made Xander happy, because that was _Spike_.

The storm blew in in earnest shortly after that, and Spike drew the curtain so they could stand at the window and watch. Not much danger of sunlight now. In fact, the sky was nearly as dark as night, sheets of rain were pouring down so hard they couldn’t even see the ground, and lightning bolts were flashing through the sky almost non-stop. The rumble of the thunder and the crash of the rain were incredibly loud, and they both stood transfixed in wonder. Xander could almost feel the electricity dancing along his skin.

After an hour or so, the light show moved away and the downpour diminished to a hard, steady shower. Spike closed the curtains again, although it was past sunset by then, and they moved to the bed, where they watched tv all night, squabbling good-naturedly over the remote. Periodically, one of them got up to eat something or other, and Spike was moving around pretty well. The injuries on his face had nearly disappeared, and, although he was still much too thin, his body had filled out considerably.

Xander still felt sweaty from his shopping foray earlier in the day, so he eventually took another long shower. The ache in his shoulders and arms was almost gone, but the pounding heat still felt good. He reminded himself that he ought to use the fitness center the next day. All this sitting around and eating wasn’t going to do him much good.

When he came back out, the tv was off, the lights were out, and Spike was sound asleep. Xander slipped in next to him and soon drifted off himself.

 

He woke up to horrible screams. Leaping out of the bed in panic, he windmilled blindly for a light switch. He saw then that the source of the noise was Spike, who was curled up naked in the corner, arms folded protectively over his head, shrieking raggedly. Xander approached very cautiously, knelt a few feet away, and then reached out a hand for Spike’s shoulder. “Spike?” he said.

Spike whipped his head up. His eyes were wide with terror. But he didn’t try to attack.

“Spike? What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

Spike blinked rapidly several times and the yelling died away until it was just a fearful whimper. Xander risked moving a little closer, his hand still resting on Spike.

“It’s okay. Everything’s all right.”

Spike’s muscles were just starting to loosen a bit when there was a loud pounding on the door. Spike moaned and threw himself against Xander. He was shivering violently, and Xander again wrapped his arms around him.

“Yes?” Xander called.

“Is something the matter, sir?” came the male voice behind the door.

“No. I’m sorry. Just having a nightmare here. I’m really sorry.”

“Are you sure?”

Xander whispered to Spike, “Tell them you’re okay so they won’t think I’m murdering you or anything.”

“’M fine. Sorry. Bad dream.” His voice was shaky but loud enough.

“Well, uh, let us know if you need anything,” was the slightly dubious reply.

“Right.”

“Good night, sirs.”

Spike was still attached to Xander, but his trembling wasn’t as bad.

“Probably thinks we’re a pair of shirt-lifters and you’re beating the shite out of me.”

“I don’t care what he thinks as long as he doesn’t call the cops. Want to move to the bed?”

Spike continued to clutch Xander as they made their way across the room. Xander helped him lie down. As soon as Xander was between the sheets next to him, Spike scooted over until he was pressed against him, his left arm tight around Xander’s waist. “It’s all right, Xander?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s fine.” It was. In fact, apart from the fact that Spike had really cold feet, it was more than fine, and Xander silently prayed that his body wouldn’t choose this particular moment to abandon all the dregs of his heterosexuality.

“Sorry,” Spike mumbled into his neck. Xander prayed even harder, because instead of being alarmed at the extremely close vicinity of fangs to arteries, he was remembering how very nice it had felt when those teeth were slipping into his throat, and the tongue was lapping at his skin, and—

He groaned out loud.

“Sorry,” Spike repeated a little desperately. “Please let me…. So sodding scared…. Can’t, can’t—“

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Xander said very truthfully, and wormed his own left arm underneath Spike. “You had a bad dream?”

“Yeah. Was dreaming of this bloke who tried to drag me to hell. Pavayne.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve dreamt worse. But this time…so bloody scared. Still.”

“It’s that fucking Vega, Spike.”

“I know,” Spike replied, but he burrowed even closer, until his cool breath was blowing across Xander’s skin, and his lips were nearly touching Xander’s neck. Then his lips actually _were_ touching. Xander steeled himself for the bite, but couldn’t force himself to move away, because part of him actually wanted to be bitten, and that part was fully erect and throbbing between his legs and, seemingly, had taken control of his body away from his brain.

But the sharp pain and sharper pleasure never came. Instead, he felt only softness, Spike’s soft lips on his thin skin, and Spike was gently sucking, stopping periodically to mutter “sorry, sorry,” until Xander shushed him. He was…nursing…almost, the way a small child sucks on its thumb when it’s frightened. It seemed to be soothing Spike because the tension was melting away from him and he was gradually falling asleep.

Xander, though, was wide awake.

 

[Chapter Four](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/52119.html)


	4. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (4/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 4/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00022wsf/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Four**

 

Xander was good and sick of television.

He never thought he’d feel that way. But three more days had passed, with no new information from either LA or England. Spike was physically in pretty good shape, but he was an emotional wreck. He’d be fine for hours, and then suddenly lose himself in sorrow or fear or another emotion. Once he got caught up in the frustration of their situation and had a tantrum, stomping and yelling and kicking at the furniture. Luckily it was daytime and nobody came running to make sure there wasn’t a murder going on, and he was barefoot so he didn’t do much damage. He did make a small hole in the drywall, but Xander figured Angel could pay for that, too.

While Spike was ranting, Xander stood near the door, ready to bolt if necessary. He considered digging out his stake, which was in one of the dresser drawers, but he wasn’t sure he could dust the person who’d been snuggling with him in bed, even if that person was momentarily homicidal.

But Spike didn’t try to harm Xander at all. His frantic pacing sometimes took him very close, but he just passed on by, directing his anger at Xander’s helpless suitcase instead.

So although Spike was pretty strong, neither of them felt confident enough to allow him outside, or even to have him stay alone for more than a short time. They remained inside together, watching the goddamn tv. Xander bought a deck of cards and they gambled for miniature bottles of hand lotion and the chocolates the maid left them each day. But not for long, because it turned out Xander was a hell of a lot better at bluffing than Spike—Spike blamed the eye patch—but Spike cheated.

It was getting to the point where they were both nostalgic for a nice little clan of Zabpehely demons to tussle with, or maybe a Ciasteczka monster or two.

The funny thing was that Xander wasn’t good and sick of Spike himself. Xander hadn’t spent this much quality time with anyone since he and Willow were six and both had the chickenpox at the same time, and Willow’s mother had let Xander stay on a cot in Willow’s room while they recuperated because Xander’s mother had never had the disease and didn’t want to risk infection. At least, that was the story. Even then, Xander had suspected that she was unwilling or unable to take care of him for a week. Xan and Will had had a great time, playing board games and staging scenes with action figures and stuffed animals and coloring in countless coloring books.

Now there were no GI Joes or plush unicorns involved, but Xander was actually enjoying Spike’s company. And although Spike snarked plenty, Xander kind of got the impression that the vampire wasn’t hating him, either.

The first morning when they woke up entangled with one another, it was extremely awkward. They quickly pulled apart, avoiding eye contact. The second morning they were both still a little discomfited. By the third morning, waking in each other’s arms was a routine. Now, when they went to sleep, they automatically snuggled together. Spike claimed it was because Xander kept the bloody air conditioner on too high and he was cold, and maybe he really did enjoy Xander’s body heat, but Xander was fairly certain Spike found him reassuring, too. And Xander, well, let’s face it. That beautiful, muscular body pressed up tightly against him was a very good thing, and he so was ready to admit that, while girls were certainly very nice, boys were just as nice, too. Even when they were vampires. If Spike noticed how turned on Xander got by the cuddling and the breathing and the occasional mouthing at his neck—and really, even without vampire senses, how could he _not_ notice?—he didn’t say anything. And if Xander noticed that Spike woke up every morning with his hard cock pushing into Xander’s hip, Xander chalked it up to morning wood—vamps got it, too, who knew?—and remained silent as well.

So Xander had left Denialville and was now more or less happily residing in Pretenditsnotthereland. But it was pretty damn clear that sooner or later, his and Spike’s patience and Angel’s and Giles’s bank accounts were going to call it quits.

 

“It’s a csípés spell.”

“A sheepish spell?”

“Csípés. Chee-paysh,” she repeated slowly. “It means sting. It probably originated with the Roma, actually, back in the fifteenth century. The Romani were enslaved in Wallachia, you see, and they’d use it to get back at their masters. It hugely intensifies the person’s feelings, and the hexed Wallachians would go all out of control and everything.”

“Fucking gypsy curses,” Spike muttered. His head was pressed close to Xander’s so he could hear, too. Xander shot him an annoyed look.

“That’s great, Will. Thanks for the history lesson. How the hell do we get rid of it?”

“I don’t know.”

Xander and Spike let out identical noises of frustration.

“The Roma didn’t usually want to remove the spell, because, well, slaves and all. And usually the bespelled person would end up getting killed somehow or being burned for demonic possession. Which is ironic, because Spike really _is_ possessed by a demon, only nobody’s going to burn him, but these Wallachians—“

“I get it. And the flambé option is really out here, too, Will.”

“Of course.”

“So, can he be unspelled?”

“I need to do more research, Xan.”

“Okay.”

“Xan? You’re still okay? I mean, Spike’s not…with the fangs, and….”

“If he was, would I be talking to you now?”

She sighed. “I guess not.” There was an urgent buzzing noise in the background at her end. “Oops! Gotta go. We’ll talk later, all right?”

“Bye, Will.”

He and Spike looked at each other.

“Well, at least we know what it is, now,” Xander said, trying for optimism and not succeeding.

“Yeah, but not how to stop it. And not why the pillock did it to begin with.”

“Wanna call Angel? See if he’s figured anything out?”

Spike snorted. “Berk can’t suss out his head from his arsehole, but yeah, let’s ring him.”

It was even noisier in LA. Angel seemed distracted, and there was a lot of crashing and banging and something that sounded suspiciously like chanting.

“I haven’t found out anything, Xander. Ugh!” Spike and Xander blinked at each other. “But, uh, I’ll call if I do. Ow, goddammit!”

“Is, uh, everything okay there, Angel?”

“Fuck! Yeah, yeah, just the usual.” There was an especially loud clatter. “Gotta go. Later.” The line went dead.

“That was a nice natter, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. He’s as helpful as always. So, what now?”

“James Bond festival on the telly.”

Xander tried his best British accent. “Name’s Bond, James Bond. Shaken, not stirred.”

“That’s horrible. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not that bad.

“It’s worse. Haven’t you been living in London for, what now?”

“Four years, off and on.”

“So you should be better at it.”

“Yeah? And how long have you been in the US of A? Because I remember your American accent, and _that_ was horrible.”

Spike frowned at him for a moment, and then laughed. “It was, wasn’t it? Bloody awful.”

“Come on. Let’s see if it’s Pierce Brosnan.”

“Pierce Brosnan? Are you mad? Sean Connery is the real Bond.”

“Sean Connery? Who’s that? Must be before my time,” Xander teased. Spike thumped him on the head with the remote.

By the time they went to bed, they both agreed that Daniel Craig made a passable Bond as well.

 

When Xander went out the next afternoon to get some food, he also stopped and picked up Spike’s duster. It looked great. No more stinkiness, no signs of damage. He beamed at the drycleaning lady and paid the fairly exorbitant fee.

Back at the Monaco, Spike was slumped in the armchair watching a slasher flick and barely looked up when Xander came in. Xander dumped the jacket in his lap.

“What’s—Bloody hell!” Spike held it up and smoothed his hand over the leather. “What’d you do?”

“Just got it fixed up a little.”

Spike blinked up at him as if Xander had just handed over the crown jewels. “Why’d you do that?”

Xander shrugged a little. “Thought you might miss it. Could hardly picture you without it. It’d be like…the cat without his hat.”

“Git,” Spike muttered, but he held the coat tightly to himself. Xander turned his back to hide his smile.

A while later, the little bag of groceries was put away. Xander had eaten the burger he’d got on the way back and was sitting on the bed, half-watching the movie and thinking about what he was going to do with himself when this was over. He rarely did much planning for the future—didn’t seem to make sense when he was likely to get snuffed by something at any time. But here he was, pushing thirty, and still alive, with almost all of his body parts still intact. Maybe he ought to at least consider the possibility that he wasn’t going to end up as demon chow.

“Oi! Wake up!”

“Huh? Sorry. Spacing out.”

“Asked you a question.”

“Yeah?”

“How are you paying for all of this?” Spike waved his hand around to indicate the room in general, as well as the duster that still lay on his legs.

“I have a Council credit card. But I think Angel’s paying them back for at least some of it.”

“Good. Cheap old sod has plenty of dosh.”

“Yeah? Where from? ‘Cause there’s usually not a whole lotta cash in the saving the world business.”

“He has money stashed away all over the place, some from years and years ago. And when he was head of Wolfram and Hart he got away with loads of money.”

“I heard a little about that. He was head of an evil law firm, right? I kinda don’t get it.”

“Me neither. But yeah, he was, for a time.”

“And there was some kind of fight?”

Spike sighed. “Yeah. Lost almost everyone that night. Nearly got dusted myself—got torn all to pieces—and so did Peaches. Nasty business, it was.”

“How’d you two survive?”

“Dunno. Something went _boom_, took most of the beasties with it. Half the building, too. Took me a whole day to dig myself out from the rubble. Angel never would give me the details, just says it’s something Fred cooked up, back before….” His voice drifted to a stop.

“Fred. Will told me about her. She liked her a lot.”

“Everybody liked Fred.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Both thinking of friends who’d died, probably. Xander didn’t want Spike to end up in an excess of melancholy. Not that he minded the comforting part, but it was really hurting him now when Spike’s pain became intense. So he decided on a diversionary tactic.

“How come you stuck with Dead Boy? Didn’t think you two got along all that well.”

“He has a big hotel. Plenty of space to avoid each other. Besides, the pouf was all alone, and I didn’t have anyplace to go. I mean, with the soul and all. Hard to fit in.” He said this quietly, as if admitting to a weakness.

“Why didn’t you come to England? To Buffy?”

“And dozens of baby Slayers? No. Had enough of them for several lifetimes. And Buffy—I wasn’t what she needed. I could see that, finally. She needs a regular bloke with a pulse who can give her fat babies and…and treat her like she deserves.”

“Maybe you need someone who treats you like you deserve.” It was out of Xander’s mouth before he could stop it, and he silently cursed himself as Spike gave him a sharp look.

“What _do_ I deserve, Harris?”

“You know what? I have no idea. Not like I’m in any position to make decisions about anybody else. Can’t even make them about myself.” Xander abruptly stood. “I’m gonna shower,” he said.

The water felt good, and he tried to concentrate on that, instead of Spike’s question. But he couldn’t help it—it kept rolling around in his head. What did Spike deserve? He’d killed thousands. Done other bad things, too. But then he’d sacrificed himself for good more than once. There was a time Xander would have said it didn’t matter, that Spike was still a serial killer and a monster, and his latter-day conversion to souldom didn’t change that. But Xander’s world came in more shades of gray than it used to, and he was a lot less certain about a whole bunch of things.

When Xander came out of the bathroom, cleaner if no more definite, Spike was leaning against the armoire in his duster and the new boots Xander had bought him.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Can’t stand another minute cooped up in here,” Spike replied.

“I feel you, man.”

“Thought I’d head to a bar, have a few drinks.”

“Oh.”

“Come with?” Spike said it casually, not even looking at Xander, as if the answer didn’t really matter to him. But Xander had just spent a bunch of days in very close proximity to the vampire, carefully trying to read his emotions, and now he could see the slight tightness around Spike’s mouth and eyes. Spike was afraid to go without him.

“Yeah, okay, if you don’t mind me tagging along. I need a break from this room, too.”

Spike shot him a brief glance of gratitude and nodded. “Well, get your kit on, then. Can’t go out like that, can you?”

Xander looked down at himself. He was wearing only a pair of boxers. He grinned at Spike. “I’d be more comfortable than you. It’s 90-something degrees out. You’re gonna roast in that jacket.”

“Vampire, love. No body heat. It’ll feel good.”

“Okay. Whatever.”

Xander threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled on his shoes. Spike looked around him curiously as they left the room and rode down to the lobby, and Xander realized that the one time he’d been through the hotel he’d been unconscious.

“Posh place,” he said as they went through the lobby.

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time living really rough, so now I like to stay at nice hotels when I can.”

“I can see that. Never fancied sleeping in the dirt much myself. Dru used to fix places up all pretty, even if they were just old factories or the like. It was one of her better qualities.”

“You miss her?”

They stepped outside and Spike glanced sideways at Xander. “Sometimes. We had a long run together. She left me plenty of times, but she always came back, you know?” He laughed. “Hell, now I’m as barmy as she is.”

“Nah. You’re mostly sane. You were crazier when you were in the school basement that time.”

Spike sighed. “I expect so. Attacked people then, too, didn’t I?”

“That was the First.”

They turned south on Michigan Avenue. Before they’d left, they’d agreed on Minerva’s, a not too divey demon bar that Spike had visited before he encountered Vega, and Xander had stopped in at when he was searching for Spike. It was only a few blocks away.

The place was about half-full with an assortment of humans and demons, and nobody paid them much attention when they entered. A four-piece band was playing something bluesy, and Spike and Xander found a table a way back from the small stage area. A waitress approached almost immediately. She was tall and curvy, with bright violet eyes and a head of slithering green snakes instead of hair. “What can I get you boys?” she asked. “We’ve got some nice AB positive tonight.”

“That’s all right, love. Just some Jack for me.”

She looked at Xander.

“Heineken, please.”

She smiled and walked away.

“Hydra girl fancied you.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

“You playing for the other team now, then?”

Xander flushed. This was the closest Spike had come to acknowledging Xander’s reactions to their nightly contact. “Um, haven’t been doing much playing at all, really. But if I was, I guess I’d be, um, a switch hitter.” Which he knew was kind of a mixed metaphor, but there you go. His face felt fiery hot and he was staring down at his hands.

“Knew you had it in you,” Spike laughed, but not in a mean kind of way.

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Xander and Spike sat there a long time, silently drinking and listening to the music, which wasn’t half-bad. It wasn’t a very exciting evening, but it was a break from their room, anyway, and at least it was pleasantly distracting to watch the various species walking, hopping, and crawling by.

As Xander sat, halfway through his fourth bottle, Spike was at the bar, talking to the bartender, a squat guy with two heads. Xander thought Spike was trying to persuade the guy to just hand over the rest of the bottle of whiskey, which would have saved some wear and tear on their waitress, at least. As Xander was watching the interchange with amusement, something suddenly loomed over him, having come up from his blind side.

He rolled his head up. And up. The thing sneering back down at him was bubblegum pink-colored, with random tufts of whitish fur across its head and bare shoulders. It was built like the side of a barn, all flat, heavy muscle, and a pair of yellowish tusks like a warthog’s extended from its mouth. Xander groaned. Pilnmop. Strong as they looked and twice as nasty.

“You ugly,” the thing growled at him.

Xander smiled sweetly at it. “Yep. Stupid, too.”

It looked taken aback. Clearly, this wasn’t the response it had expected. In Xander’s experience, if someone was bent on picking a fight with you, there wasn’t much you could to about it. Occasionally, though, if you confused them enough by being agreeable, they’d go away.

The Pilnmop took another stab at it. “All humans ugly and stupid!”

“We sure are.”

It had to think again for a minute. “You _especially_ ugly and stupid human.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more, pal.” It was too bad. If he was going to banter with something, it would be nice if it at least had a decent vocabulary.

It scowled. “You don’t belong here.”

“Nope. Just a tourist, passing through. I’ll be gone soon.”

The demon scrunched up its face. “No. You be gone now!” it said, and dropped a dinner plate-sized hand on Xander’s shoulder.

“Hey, look, I—“

Xander would never know if he could have deflected this confrontation, because a black whirlwind with peroxided hair suddenly flew at the demon. “Get your filthy mitts off my boy!” the whirlwind shouted, slamming his head solidly against the beast’s chest.

The beast roared and everybody nearby, including Xander, backed rapidly away. The Pilnmop grabbed at Spike, probably trying to crush him in its enormous arms, but then it squealed and pushed him away. There was a big, bloody hole in the middle of its body. Spike spat out a mouthful of demon—he was in gameface, Xander could see now—and rushed back in.

Xander wanted to stop this. Spike was still not completely healed, and Pilnmops were powerful and hard to beat. “Spike! Stop it!” he yelled, but of course the vampire ignored him. Instead, he shouted out a string of incoherent British obscenities and leapt up at his opponent’s neck. The Pilnmop grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him about ten feet across the room. Spike crashed into a table. As far away as Xander was, he heard something in Spike’s body go _pop_! and the back of his head began to bleed heavily. Xander worried about jagged pieces of wood.

But that didn’t stop Spike. He stood and shook his head, roared again, and crashed right back against the Pilnmop.

Xander had seen Spike fight plenty of times. He’d fought him himself once or twice, if completely ineptly. He knew Spike was a determined and experienced combatant, deadly even against foes much larger than him. Still, he’d never seen him fight like this, more like a pack of rabid tigers than a vampire, as if he’d never been anything remotely human. It was scary as hell.

Spike took a few good blows. Still, within less than five minutes, a lot of furniture was in shambles and the Pilnmop was down on the floor, covered in gore, unmoving. Spike took its head in his hands and looked about to twist it off when he made the awful mewling sound again—the one he’d made in the tunnel—and threw himself away from the fallen beast. Everyone gasped as he stumbled toward Xander, but when he got there, he only fell to his knees and seized Xander’s waist, pleading “Help me, god, help me,” over and over.

Everyone in the bar stood and stared.

Xander calmly turned his head toward the bar. “Sorry about the damage,” he said. “He gets a little carried away.”

The bartender nodded, his mouths hanging open.

“I, uh, I can pay for it. I’ll give you a call later to settle up, okay? When, um, he’s a little calmer.”

“Fine, fine,” the bartender said. “Just get him the hell out of here, okay?”

“Working on it.”

Xander helped Spike to his feet. He put Spike’s arm around his shoulder and practically dragged him outside. The other customers gave them a wide berth as they passed.

A couple blocks away, Xander stopped and propped Spike against a building. “Hey. You okay? How badly are you hurt?”

Spike’s eyes were glazed, but he was able to answer. “Just banged up. I’ll be fine with a bit of a feed. Just get me back to the room, yeah?”

“Okay.”

It was slow going, but they made it to the Monaco without any problems. As they walked through the lobby toward the elevator, Xander kept himself between Spike and the front desk, hoping to block the clerk’s view. Christ knew what the hotel staff thought of them already.

Up in the room, he sat Spike on the toilet, and Spike docilely allowed himself to be stripped and tended to. He had a dislocated shoulder, which Xander helped snap back into place. He had a cracked rib, too, but there wasn’t much Xander could do about that, and Spike said not to worry about it. His head had stopped bleeding, and Xander dabbed at it with damp towels until it was clean.

When the doctoring was done, Xander helped Spike into bed, and heated up several bags of blood for him, and brought them over. As Spike drank, Xander called Minerva’s.

“Uh, hi. My friend and I were there earlier this evening. The one-eyed human and the vampire?”

“Yeah. I remember you two,” grumbled the bartender.

“Thought you might. I’m really sorry. I can give you my credit card number and—“

“Forget it. The Pilnmop started it. It won’t make that mistake again.”

“Is it, um, dead?”

“Nah. Ain’t gonna be feeling too chipper for a while, though. Look, mister. Let’s make a deal. You and your crazy vamp stay outta my bar, and we’ll call it even, all right?”

“Okay.”

Spike was finishing his fifth glass when Xander hung up. Xander sat on the bed beside him. “Well, that was interesting,” Xander said.

“Sorry,” Spike mumbled softly. “I was angry.”

“Yeah. I kinda got that.” He had half-expected Spike to turn green and burst out of his shirt. “How come?”

“Tosser was bothering you.”

“I’ve been dissed a lot worse than that, believe me. _You’ve_ insulted me twice as bad before breakfast, you know? I mean, not recently, but back when.”

Spike wouldn’t look at him. “That’s different. You’re mi—It’s different.”

“Well, thanks for defending my honor. You’re my knight in shining armor.” Spike looked at him then, angrily, as if he expected Xander to be teasing. But Xander really wasn’t. Spike’s reaction might have been a little extreme, but it made him feel good to know it had been made on his behalf. He smiled at Spike, and the vampire relaxed.

“Wasn’t meant to get so violent,” Spike said.

“I know. The stupid spell again.”

“You need to leave me, Xander. Go.”

“We’re not doing this again. You’re stuck with me until we get you fixed. Period.”

“I might have hurt you!”

“But you didn’t. You wiped the floor with the Pilnmop, but you didn’t harm a hair on my head. You haven’t, you know. Except that one time when you bit me, but even then you stopped.”

“Might not next time.”

“I’ll take the chance.”

Spike sighed. He needed to sleep off his injuries. So Xander stripped off his clothes and slid into bed, then turned out the lights. When Spike squished against him, Xander tried to hold him gingerly, mindful of the broken rib. But Spike only pressed in more tightly and sucked at his favorite spot on Xander’s neck, which now sported a permanent hickey. Spike fell asleep like that, but Xander remained awake for a long time, remembering the vampire’s words to the demon.

_My boy_. He’d called Xander _my boy_.

[Chapter Five](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/52279.html)


	5. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (5/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 5/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00029s7b/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Five**

 

“It’s a girl! I’m not sure how much she weighed because they told me in kilos and I still can’t keep metric straight, even though I really should by now, but she’s kind of big, and she’s healthy, and she has the cutest little nose, and—“

“Morning, Will.” Xander tried to shake the sleep from his head. A glance at the clock told him it was 9:30 am, much earlier than he was used to waking up. Spike glared at him balefully and didn’t release his grip around Xander’s waist.

“Oh. Good morning, Xan.”

“Everybody’s okay? Buff and the baby?”

“They’re fine. They’re calling her Emily Joyce, isn’t that nice? We’re gonna do a naming ceremony in a few days, sort of a pan-denominational thing, and Giles is the godfather, which is perfect, isn’t it? Dawnie’s gonna fly in tomorrow. I’m an aunt, Xander! I always wanted to be one. And you’re Uncle Xander. Do you think I’ll be the cool kind of aunt, like the kind she comes and talks to when she’s fifteen and has all sorts of questions she can’t ask her parents, and—“

“I’m sure you’ll be the coolest.”

“Xan? When are you coming home? We miss you.”

“Thanks, Will. But we’re still working on our problems, you know?”

She sighed. “I know. And I haven’t found a cure yet. But I’m looking.”

“Thanks. Hey, give Buff and the new kid kisses for me, okay?”

“Okay. And don’t think you’re going to get out of diaper-changing duty, mister.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he laughed.

He hung up and set the phone back on the bedside table.

“Slayer and sprog all right?”

“Yep. A girl. Hey, you don’t think she’ll be a Slayer, too, do you?”

Spike chuckled. “It’d serve Buffy right, wouldn’t it?”

Xander had a mental image of Buffy arguing with a teenaged version of, well, herself. He smiled and snuggled back down under the blankets and vampire.

 

Several more days passed. Xander lost count, because they were all pretty much the same. Sometimes Xander felt like everybody had forgotten about them in their cozy midwestern hideout. They were all so busy with babies and apocalypses.

Spike healed.

They watched lots of tv and argued about stupid things and chatted with the maid when she came to clean their room. They took walks together after dark, but didn’t want to risk another fight, or worse, so they stayed away from bars. In fact, they stayed away from everything, just tromping along lonely streets together, or standing and watching the Chicago River flow under their feet.

Xander went out one afternoon and brought some books back for Spike. No Dracula this time, but instead Christopher Moore (this one was a vampire book, too, actually, but it made Spike snort with laughter) and David Sedaris and Neil Gaiman. Xander was so sick of television that he read, too, actually, voluntarily read, and it didn’t even kill him.

So Xander was reclining on the bed, chortling to himself at Sedaris’s attempts to learn French, when he felt like someone was watching him. He looked up from his book. Spike was in the armchair, staring at him, and now Xander knew exactly how a gazelle must feel when it was stalked by a lion.

“Uh, Spike? There’s lots more blood in the fridge,” he said uneasily. “Want me to heat you some?”

“Not hungry,” Spike rumbled, not in the least reassuringly.

“Um…is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing at all.” Spike slowly put his own book on the floor next to him and stood, and then prowled toward the bed.

“Spike?” Xander squeaked, in a way that couldn’t remotely be construed as manly.

“Xxxxaaaannnnn,” Spike purred, and, in one graceful motion, pulled his black t-shirt over his head and let it fall on the floor.

Xander abandoned his own book and tried to scoot away, but there was only a narrow space between the bed and the wall, and he was pretty sure that Spike would pounce on him the instant he tried to escape.

Spike took another step closer and, one-handed, popped open the buttons on his jeans. He did a little shimmy move that Xander desperately tried to tell himself wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, and, with vampire grace, stepped right out of his pants.

Xander had seen Spike nude before. Recently, even. And he’d been sleeping with that incredible bare body glued to his for two weeks. But now Spike was stalking toward him with that look on his face, and Spike’s pupils were so dilated the blue was almost obscured, and his cock, dear gods, his cock was stiff and glistening a little at the tip.

“This isn’t funny,” Xander choked.

“Not laughing,” replied Spike, who had reached the bed.

“Look, Spike, it’s the spell again, you don’t really want—“

“I need this,” Spike said, and he knelt on the bed, then crawled on all fours until he was inches from Xander. “Need you, Xan. Now. Please.”

“Spike….”

Spike blinked at him with eyes as big as a cartoon puppy’s, and, in a hoarse whisper, repeated, “Please?”

You know how that shimmy was the sexiest thing Xander had ever seen? Now it was only second sexiest, and the number one spot was taken up by Spike naked on his bed on hands and knees, begging him. Xander thought it very unlikely that anything was going to be able to top that.

Xander was absolutely unable to form an answer at all.

Maybe Spike took his silence as acquiescence, because he reached out one hand and, gentle as could be, set it on Xander’s left upper thigh.

Xander gathered all his reserves and gave it one more try. “It’s the csípés. It’s making you do this, Spike. You don’t really want to.”

“But I do. I really, really want to.” And he moved his hand. Just a few inches, no big deal, except now it was on top of the prominent bulge at Xander’s groin. “You want to as well.”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Spike didn’t move, and he looked Xander steadily in the eye. Xander understood at once that Spike really would stop if he told him to, that the vampire truly didn’t want to act against Xander’s will, but at the moment, anyway, Spike honestly was frantic for him. Both of them were going to regret this later. But Xander’s willpower had its limits.

“Yes,” he said, barely audibly, but Spike heard him and closed his eyes briefly in relief.

Demonically fast, Spike moved so that he was straddling Xander. “Skin,” he hissed. “Want skin.” And he tore Xander’s t-shirt right down the middle. Spike groaned as he stroked his cool palms up and down Xander’s torso, leaving a tingling path from neck to waist. Then he bent down and took one of Xander’s nipples between those soft, full lips and sucked on it.

“Fuck,” said Xander. That wasn’t what he was thinking. What he was thinking was that he was obviously incredibly easy, and right about now Spike could do pretty much anything he wanted to him, and Xander would only plead for more. Which probably wasn’t a wise thing to say to Spike, who was nibbling lightly on that nipple now while rolling the other between his finger and thumb. So it was a good thing that Xander was mostly incapable of speech at the moment.

After a while, Spike ripped at Xander’s sleeves until the shirt was no longer on him, but only under him. Then Spike explored Xander’s upper half with his mouth. He began at his favorite spot on Xander’s neck, but then he moved down a little to trace Xander’s collar bone, and to lick at his shoulders, and to bite softly at his belly. Then up again, and now their mouths were pressed together and their tongues were dancing in a kiss that was leaving Xander breathless and a little dizzy.

All this time, Xander’s hands had been flat at his sides, as stupid and useless as the rest of him. But when Spike sucked on his earlobe, Xander couldn’t stand it any longer, and he cupped his palms onto the vampire’s silky, round ass. Apparently Spike approved because he moaned and wiggled in an entirely satisfactory way.

Xander massaged the powerful muscles under his hands as Spike left a trail of tiny kisses across his right cheekbone, then his left. Suddenly, Spike murmured, “Sod this,” and pulled the patch off of Xander’s eye. He tossed it onto the floor.

Xander tensed. He knew the socket wasn’t pretty. Freakish, really. He didn’t even like looking at it himself, and he never took the patch off in front of others, not even on those rare occasions when he slept with someone. But Spike only continued his kisses, tiny, tender butterfly touches around the empty socket and then across the lid.

And then he was moving again, this time down the center of Xander’s chest and stomach, until he reached the top of Xander’s jeans. Xander had a momentary fear that Spike was going to tear them, too, and that would probably hurt. But he didn’t. He unbuttoned and unzipped them, and then pulled them and Xander’s boxers off together. They joined the patch on the floor.

Spike looked down at Xander’s cock, which was achingly hard and mighty happy to have been released from the confines of clothing. “Pretty,” Spike said. He swooped down and took it in his mouth.

Xander’s overly full head—the one on the top of his shoulders, not the one currently bathed in cold, delicious suction—was as busy as always. Reminding him that the mouth that encircled one of his very most favorite parts housed rows of shark-like teeth, and the vampire that controlled those teeth was maybe kind of unstable at his best, and lately full-blown bipolar or multiple personality or something, and while spell-induced lust was turning out to be a very nice thing indeed, what if it turned into anger or hunger or something considerably less enjoyable on his end? And anyway, wasn’t he just two weeks ago agonizing over the fact that he kinda liked it when a guy smooched him, and that guy turned out to be an evil wizard, and now here he was doing considerably more than smooching with a guy, a guy vampire, but then it wasn’t like any of this really mattered because there’s no way in a thousand hells he was going to try to stop this, because Jesus Christ nothing had ever felt this good, and he lied before, that begging on all fours thing was certainly very sexy but it was only number two, which moved the naked prowling to number three, because number one was definitely, absolutely, the sight of that blond head bobbing at his crotch, and those hungry ice-blue eyes rolled up to gaze at him, and

“Fuck, Spike, I’m gonna—“

Spike pulled off with a loud pop. His lips were swollen and red and Xander absolutely had to taste them right this second. He pulled Spike up until they were face to face and pressed down gently on the back of Spike’s head, then sucked that lower lip right into his mouth. It was as delicious as he’d thought. Spike was humping against him, their wet cocks slipping and sliding against each other.

Abruptly, Spike sat up. Then, still straddling Xander, he rose to his knees. As Xander watched, mouth agape, he slipped two fingers of his left hand into his mouth, moved them in and out for a moment, and then reached underneath himself and pressed them inside.

“Fuck,” said Xander again. It was the only word he knew.

Spike grinned at him and then rocked his hips against his hand. He allowed his head to fall back a little and his eyes to close, and he was chewing on that delectable lip.

Xander reached up and, slightly hesitantly, touched Spike’s cock. He’d never touched another man before, not like this. It was so strange to wrap his fist around a penis that wasn’t his, but it also felt really good, and he liked how Spike’s soft skin moved around the rigid core as Spike thrust himself into his palm.

Unlike him, Spike was uncircumcised, and Xander thought he might like to play a little with the foreskin, see what it was like, but not now. Right now he would rather watch Spike, see his fingers disappear and reappear, watch the play of emotions across that beautiful face.

With his other hand, he cradled Spike’s balls. There, too, soft and hard. Xander wondered what they tasted like, what the sticky liquid leaking steadily from his cock tasted like. He took his hand away from Spike’s cock and licked at his fingers. Spike made a strangled noise and, quick as lightning, flipped them both over.

Underneath Xander, Spike bent his knees and pulled them up and wide. Xander lifted up on his arms so he could see Spike spread out beneath him, writhing and panting, his pink hole stretched and twitching, his belly painted with pre-cum. “Fuck me,” Spike said. “Please, Xan, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please….”

Xander had maybe one operational brain cell left. “But…lube,” he stuttered.

“Don’t have any. ‘S okay. Vampire. God, _please_, Xander!”

Xander took his own cock in his hand and guided it against Spike’s opening. Spike’s eyes flew wide open and his panting increased, and he arched his hips upward against Xander. Excruciating slowly, because if he went fast this was all going to be over embarrassingly quickly, Xander sank inside.

“Fuck,” he said, intelligently. And then, for good measure, “Fuck.”

Spike moaned, maybe partly in pain because this had to hurt, but that didn’t stop him from rocking upward again. His eyes were heavy-lidded and unfocused. “More,” he said. “Please, please, more, fuck me, more, please.”

Okay. We have a new number one.

It was all Xander could stand. He began to piston into Spike hard, hard, and Spike thrashed under him and called out brokenly for more, and harder, and please, and more, and god, yes, like that, and Xander leaned in until Spike was bent almost double, and Spike gripped Xander’s biceps and his fingernails dug into Xander’s skin but Xander didn’t care, and Spike was so tight and so good and so beautiful, and Spike was howling so loud that Xander had to silence him with his own mouth, only the headboard was still slamming rhythmically into the wall, and god, it was so good, and cold liquid spurted across his belly as Spike’s muscles clenched him, and his head was exploding apart in slow motion into a zillion happy little fragments and the explosion ran right down his spine into his balls and his cock, and, fuck, fuck, fuck, and he was floating back to earth like a feather, so slow, so light.

With a final grunt, Xander collapsed on top of Spike. Spike straightened his legs and wound them around Xander’s, and sucked a little on Xander’s neck. Xander was still inside Spike, and it was a nice place to be. Nice enough for just…a little…nap.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, Xander regained enough energy to peel himself up. Spike moaned and clutched at him just a little when he went to withdraw, and then let go. With a groan, Xander collapsed at Spike’s side.

Spike turned and looked at him, his eyes wide, his face solemn. Then he noticed the bloody little crescents on Xander’s upper arms. He leaned over and licked at them with a delicate cat tongue. When the wounds were clean, he settled back on his pillow.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Better now?” Xander asked.

“Much.”

“What brought that on?”

“Was just watching you, reading on the bed. You were…pretty.”

“Huh.”

“I didn’t mean….” Spike sighed.

“Look, I know it was the spell, okay? I don’t think this means we’re engaged or anything.”

Spike reached over and ran a thumb across Xander’s cheek, just under the missing eye. “Wasn’t just the spell. The emotions always start out as my own, don’t they?”

Xander shut his eye for a moment. “I’m sorry, Spike. I could have stopped you. I just…I didn’t want to.”

“Do you wish you had?”

“Not…not for my sake. I mean…wow. And can I just say, wow.”

Spike’s smile was almost shy. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never…not with a guy, you know.”

Spike blinked at him. “I thought you said—“

“Yeah, well, that’s sort of a recent thing, actually. I mean, the admitting I like men, not the actually liking them, because that’s been going on a long time.”

“How long?”

“At least since I tried to pretend that the vamp tied up in my basement wasn’t incredibly attractive.”

Spike smirked. “Knew you wanted me then. Git.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve always known I’m incredibly attractive.”

Xander slapped him on the ass. “No. I mean, I didn’t realize until today that you liked men, too.”

“I like to keep my options open. I was a virgin when I died—Victorian and all, yeah?—but then after I tried all sorts of things. I mean, Angelus—“

“Wait! You and Angel?”

“Angelus, yeah.”

“Oh, my god. Buffy would have a cow if she knew.”

“No, Buffy would picture the possibilities if she knew, but now she’s a mum and we don’t want to torment her, do we?”

“Hmm. You and Angel—recently?”

“No. Said Angelus, didn’t I? Long ago. Twat’s been too good for me ever since. Besides, wouldn’t want to make him too happy, would I?”

“And you would. Because I’m feeling very happy right now.”

Spike kissed his nose, but then he looked serious. “Look, Xan, you know we can’t—“

“I know. Told you. I’m not ready to pick out colors for the wedding, okay? It was just the spell. But I can enjoy for a few minutes, can’t I?”

Spike looked at him for a long moment, his head slightly tilted. Then he reached over and took Xander’s suddenly interested cock in his hand. “Perhaps we can enjoy a bit more than that,” he said.

 

“Dammit, why isn’t he answering?” Xander angrily tossed the phone onto the desk.

“Maybe he’s busy fighting.”

“For, what? A week? We haven’t heard from him in a week, and I’ve left about a thousand messages. Can’t be the apocalypse, because, hello? World’s still here.”

“Pillock probably forgot to charge the thing. Twenty-first century technology is a bit much for him.” Spike stood and stretched, and Xander watched a white line of flesh appear between his t-shirt and jeans and then disappear again. He’d have thought that after yesterday’s adventures he would be pretty sated, but it seemed they’d only made him hungrier for the vampire today. Spike had shot him a leer or two, but hadn’t said anything about yesterday, and certainly hadn’t made any moves. Xander wished he were brave enough to make a move himself, but he was too afraid Spike would laugh it off.

Xander flopped back on the bed in frustration and annoyance. “A few more days stuck here and I’m gonna be crazier than you. There’s got to be something we can do instead of just sitting around.”

Spike grabbed a plastic packet from the fridge and stuck it in the warm water in the ice bucket. He hummed quietly to himself while he waited, drumming his finger on the desk, and Xander wondered what thoughts were cycling through that bleached head. He wished they were normal people and they could just have a normal date, and talk about stuff like dating-type people do, maybe over a nice dinner, or—

Dinner.

Xander sat up quickly. “I sort of have an idea,” he said.

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Probably is.”

“What do you have in mind, pet?”

“Um….”

As he hesitated, Spike brought his glass of blood over with him and sat next to him on the bed. He took a noisy, slurpy sip and smacked his lips. “Pouf gets us mostly cow and pig and that shite. Hardly ever have human. Haven’t fed this well since those wankers chipped me. So. What was this brilliant scheme of yours?”

“I, uh, was thinking of going to dinner with Danny Vega.”

Spike gawked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “Dinner with that tosser? Then perhaps dancing or a film after? Yeah, that’ll sort everything.”

“It’s just…when I got the Eye, he kind of asked me out. Said he’d knock ten grand off the price if I went.”

Spike lifted his eyebrows. “Did he now? And you were swept off your feet?”

“No, I…I said no.”

“All right, then.” Spike drained his glass and set it on the nightstand.

“But then he, uh, he said what about a kiss.”

“For how much?”

“Five thousand.”

“So?” Spike had folded his arms across his chest.

“So I’d never kissed a guy before, and I was kinda curious, and—“

Spike leapt up and stood in front of Xander. “He kissed you!”

“Um…yeah. Look, I didn’t know then that he’d hexed you or anything, he just seemed like—“

“That fucker touched you!”

Xander scratched his head nervously. “Well, generally you have to touch to kiss, unless you’re, like, blowing kisses, but that probably wouldn’t be worth five thousand dollars.”

Spike began pacing fiercely, like a trapped tiger. “That fucker touched you with his filthy hands and his filthy lips and now he wants to take you out for a bloody dinner and then he’ll likely want to shag.”

Xander was confused and a little scared. Sure, Vega was an asshole, but he didn’t understand why Spike was so worked up over this. It was just one kiss, after all, and—Oh. The goddamn spell. Time for another emotional meltdown. Xander wasn’t too certain which emotion this was, though.

Spike continued to pace and rant. “Of course you’d fancy him. He’s quite a looker, isn’t he? And he has a sodding pulse, and he can go out in the sun. I can only take you dark places like the bloody sewers. Hah! Fine romance that would be. Here. Let me light another candle and wipe the piss off your boots. And while I’m at it, why don’t I try to fucking tear your throat out? Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

Xander just watched at him, open-mouthed. Jealousy. This was jealousy. Spike was jealous of Vega, over him. Over Xander.

“Spike, look—“

Spike ignored him. “Stupid fucker with his stupid spells. Thinks he can take my boy, does he? I’ll show him. I’ll rip his bloody heart out.”

Spike veered toward the door, and Xander frantically scrambled to stop him. Spike snarled and tried to push past him, and Xander grabbed his shoulders. “Spike! Whoa! You need to chill.”

Spike’s eyes were flecked with yellow sparks. “Let me go, Xan! He can’t have you. You’re mine!”

“There’ll be no having, all right? Not with him.”

Spike wavered a moment and then tried again for the door. “No! Need to make sure he doesn’t come near you.”

Xander executed a block that would have made the Sunnydale High football coach proud. “You can’t go outside now, Spike! It’s the middle of the day. I’m not gonna do you any good if you’re a little pile of ashes on Wacker Drive, now, am I?”

Spike froze. He was breathing hard, like a racehorse who’d just won the Kentucky Derby. “He _touched_ you, Xan,” he whined.

Xander took a step closer and enveloped Spike in a hug. “Not like you touched me, Spike. Nothing like that.” He was praying to whatever gods would listen that this was the right way to react to an over-possessive vampire.

And maybe it was, because Spike melted against him. “Sorry,” he said into Xander’s neck. “I know I have no right. You don’t belong to me. I know that.”

“It’s okay,” Xander said, rubbing the strong back. “Flattering. Nobody’s ever been jealous over me before, with or without a spell.”

Spike tilted his head a little and sucked on Xander’s neck. He probably just wanted the comfort—Xander was sort of his security blanket nowadays—but it sent a lightning thrill all through Xander’s body, and his legs grew a little wobbly. “Let’s make a deal,” Xander said. “No more apologizing for the goddamn spell, okay? I understand not being in control of yourself. I really do. Hell, I can barely handle myself anyway, and Willow’s managed to zap me with magic more than once. And I was possessed. Twice.”

Spike pulled away. “Possessed?”

“Uh-huh. Once by a soldier spirit or something, on Halloween. Remember that year? Willow was a ghost, and Buff was some sort of princess or something, and you tried—“

“To kill you all. Yeah.”

“Well, actually I think you were mostly after just Buffy that time.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“But anyway, that night, I was a soldier. I acted like one, thought like one. Didn’t have any choice at all.”

“And the other time?”

“That was before you showed up in Sunny-D, I think. Sophomore year. Hyena.”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up farther than Xander would have thought possible. “Hyena?”

“Yep. I ate a live baby pig, Spike. And I was mean to Willow. I tried to eat some people, too. And I…fuck. I almost raped Buffy.”

Spike stared at him in astonishment. “You…you….”

“Yeah.” Xander walked away and sat heavily on the bed. This wasn’t exactly one of his favorite childhood memories.

Spike came over. “You tried to eat people?”

Xander nodded.

“And you really tried to rape her?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you stop, then?”

“Because she was stronger and she clocked me on the head with a brick. If she hadn’t I would have gone through with it. I really would.”

Spike sat at his side. “Oh,” he said.

“Buff and Will think I forgot about the hyena after the possession went away. But I didn’t. I remember it all—how badly I wanted to hurt, to take, to kill.”

“But you hated me so much after I tried—That time with Buffy, when….”

“I did. Partly because you weren’t my favorite person to begin with, and I was pissed that you and Buff had been…together…anyway. Partly because it reminded me of me.”

“And now, Xander?”

“I’m older. Wiser, maybe. I have a little more perspective. And besides, you went and saved my eye and then saved the world. That’s gotta count for something.”

“You don’t hate me any longer?”

Xander put his hand on Spike’s knee. “No. I…. Honestly? I’m feeling a little confused now. But there’s definitely no hate in the mixture.”

“All right, then,” Spike said quietly. “Go have dinner with the wizard.”

“But…but….”

“No worries. I’m not going to have another fit over it.” He turned and looked at Xander earnestly. “I want some answers. I can’t go on like this, and neither can you. See if you can get something out of him, yeah?”

 

“You can come with.”

Spike shook his head. “No. Wouldn’t be able to stop myself from tearing his sodding head off.”

“Okay. But I promise, it’s just an interrogation dinner thing. No naughty touching.”

Spike put his cool hands on either side of Xander’s face and leaned his own face in very close. “When we get this thing sorted, pet, you’ll go back to the Scoobies, won’t you?”

“I don’t know. I…. You need to have your head clear before we talk about this, Spike.”

“But I can have a kiss in the meantime? I don’t have five thousand dollars.”   
Xander smiled. "You can have several. Won't cost you a cent."  
   
[Chapter Six](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/52544.html)

 


	6. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (6/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 6/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/0002a362/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Six**

 

It was a pretty nice place, only a few blocks from the Monaco, actually. The booths had high partitions that gave them a little island of privacy, the lighting was flattering, the music was understated and kind of hip.

Vega was already there when Xander arrived. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit and a white, tieless shirt that showed off his dark skin. His black hair was carefully styled. Xander didn’t have a suit with him—didn’t actually own one, in fact, and probably hadn’t worn one since Sunnydale. So he was wearing a pair of khakis and a maroon button-down shirt that Spike told him looked smashing, and that had a collar high enough to hide the mark on his neck.

Spike. He hoped he was okay alone. Xander had left him with a full fridge of blood and the Council’s Mastercard, and he fervently wished that that was going to be enough to keep his temperamental roommate busy for a few hours.

“Xander! I’m so glad you decided to take me up on my offer,” Vega said, smiling broadly. He had very white teeth.

Xander smiled back as pleasantly as he was able and sat down. He ordered a scotch from the hovering waiter.

They had a few minutes of awkward small-talk, and then they perused the menu. When the waiter came back, Xander resisted the urge to gulp his drink, and he ordered a steak. Nothing fancy. He wasn’t a fancy ordering kind of guy. Vega wanted a pasta dish of some kind.

“So,” Vega said after the waiter left. “Have you found your wayward vampire?”

Xander had planned to wait a little while before broaching the subject, but he wasn’t going to ignore an opening like this. “Why do you care?” he asked, trying to block some of his hostility out of his voice.

Vega frowned and managed to look genuinely concerned. “You seemed worried about him. Angel, too. I hate the idea of your friend coming to my city and being…harmed.”

“He wasn’t really my friend. And you can stop the act because I know you did something to him.” He’d meant to take a more indirect route, too, maybe lull Vega into fessing up, but he just didn’t have the patience for it.

The wizard blinked at him. “Me? Why would I—I told you, I never even saw him. What makes you think—“

Xander leaned forward and tried to look menacing. It wasn’t all that difficult, actually. “Cut the crap. It’s time for you to be straight with me, Vega.” He had to hold back a hysterical giggle at his own choice of words. “I may not look like much, but I have some close friends of the kind you really don’t want to piss off.”

Vega looked slightly stricken. He leaned closer, too, and whispered, “The mob? You’re friends with the mob?”

Xander snickered. “Worse, pal. I’m friends with the Slayers. And I work for the Watchers Council.” The wizard’s eyes grew very round and his face was pale. “Now, let’s try for the truth, okay? What the fuck did you do to Spike?” Despite the situation, Xander had to admit he was kind of enjoying himself.

Vega hunched in on himself. “I didn’t want to,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t want to. Hell, I was supposed to dust him and I didn’t. And I could have, too!”

Just then, the waiter appeared with their food. He lifted one of those giant pepper grinders and was about to ask if they wanted some when he caught the looks on their faces and obviously thought better of it. “Enjoy your meal!” he said very quickly, and scuttled away. The steak smelled really good, but Xander ignored it. He had bigger prey at the moment.

“What do you mean you were supposed to dust him? Spill, Vega!” He pointed at the man with his steak knife.

Vega sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “Okay. A day or so after Angel called about the Eye, this guy came by my store. He knew Spike was on his way—“

“Wait! Why didn’t you just sell the Eye to Angel over the phone? Weren’t you trying to lure Spike here?”

“No, I really wasn’t. It’s just…I don’t like to sell powerful stuff to people I haven’t met. I want to get a little reading off them—it’s a skill I have, you know—make sure they’re not up to no good with it. I’m not a very strong wizard, but this is the one thing I can do really well.”

Xander put the knife down and crossed his arms. “You want me to believe that, after you fucked up Spike?”

“Yeah, I… Let me tell the whole story, okay?”

Xander nodded skeptically. Might as well hear what he had to say.

“So Spike was on his way, and I’m not all that fond of vampires, you know?”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Xander muttered.

“Exactly. But I’d heard of Angel and Spike, I know they have souls, so I figured okay, at least I can talk to the guy. But then this other dude comes by first, right? He knows Spike’s coming, and he tries to convince me that Spike’s evil. But like I said, I can read people pretty well, and I knew this guy was bad news. So I told him to take a hike.

“So then he gets all scary. He’s kind of short, but he’s really built, and he has these scary ass eyes. Like he’s not quite human. And I know what I’m talking about, because my mom was half Brachen, but she was a nice lady, and this dude was spooky.”

Xander sighed and took a bite of his food. He’d been right. Still a demon magnet. It was good steak, though.

“He tells me that he has some beef with Angel, and he needs Spike out of the picture.”

Xander nearly choked. Fuck! Was Angel in trouble now, too? But Vega was still talking.

“He wanted me to dust Spike. And I could have! I’m not much of a fighter, but I’ve got a few charms that can paralyze a vamp long enough to poke a stake between his ribs. I just have to get close enough to touch him first. Anyway, I told the guy I wouldn’t do it. Told him I was gonna call Angel, too. He got all threatening then, said bad shit would happen to me, and I believed him. I could tell he wasn’t lying, anyway.”

Xander gestured at the wizard with his fork. “But you didn’t dust him.”

“No. I’m not…a murderer, I guess. I don’t kill anyone, especially good guys. It’s wrong, and besides, it’ll always come back and bite you in the ass, sooner or later. But this guy made it pretty clear that if I didn’t do it, I’d be toast, and then someone else would anyway. So I quick came up with an idea. I told him I could do something to Spike that was less than lethal but would keep him away from Angel. Dude thought about it and said okay. Said he’d be back for me if I said anything to the vamps about him. And I’m not, am I? I mean, he didn’t mention you.”

Xander swallowed another bite. “Did he say what he wanted from Angel?”

“No. Just didn’t seem to like him much.”

“Yeah, well….” Xander snorted. “Okay, so Spike arrived?”

“Yeah. And I put a spell on him.”

“A spell?”

“It’s an old one. It makes emotions go sort of out of control, sometimes.”

“And you thought it was a good idea for a vampire to have out of control emotions?”

“No! I thought it sucked. But I didn’t have a whole lot of options. I hexed him, which knocked him out for a little while, and then I left him in the sewers. I figured that was the safest place for him.”

For some reason, Xander was inclined to believe Vega. But still, he was furious. “You cursed him, you dumped him in the sewers and didn’t tell anyone where he was. Very caring.”

“If Angel found him right away, I’d be in trouble with the guy from the shop. What else could I do?” The waiter came by, probably to check on them, but when he heard Vega raise his voice a little he steered himself immediately in the opposite direction.

Xander cut another piece of meat and was surprised to see that he’d already eaten most of it. Apparently, this was hungry business.

“What did you think was going to happen to a half-loco souled vamp in the sewers of Chicago, Vega?”

The wizard looked down at his plate. He hadn’t had a single bite. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “Nothing good.”

Xander just glared at him.

Then Vega looked up at him and cocked his head. “Why are you so angry? I thought you said he wasn’t your friend?”

“He wasn’t.”

Vega frowned and then his eyes went wide again. “You found him!” he exclaimed. “You found Spike!”

Xander didn’t answer.

“Was he all right?”

“Of course he wasn’t all right, you jerk! He was starved and cut to shreds.”

“And now?”

“He’s okay. Physically. But his head’s a mess, and you did that to him. What’s the cure, Vega? How do we fix him?”

Vega winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…,” he said.

“C’mon, you prick! How the fuck do we de-hex him?” His voice was loud and a little shrill, but he didn’t care. Another three seconds and he was going to leap over the table and strangle the guy.

But Vega’s voice was tiny and subdued. “You weren’t friends but now…but now you care about him.”

Xander collapsed back on the plush red seat and looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. I really do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I never want to hear those words again,” Xander said. “Tell me how to help him.”

“There’s no cure, Xander.”

Panic and murderous rage surged through Xander’s brain and for a moment, his emotions were nearly as out of control as Spike’s. He clenched his jaw and squinted at the ceiling and tried for a response that wouldn’t get him thrown in prison. But before he said anything, the wizard went on.

“There’s no cure, but I think—I’m pretty sure, actually—that it’ll wear off. If you give it enough time.”

The tinge of hope felt good. But—“How much time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Cause we’re talking about the undead, here, Vega. He’s already 150 years old. Is he gonna have to wait another 150 years to get his head clear?”

“No, no, nothing like that. But weeks at least. Maybe several months.”

Xander took a deep, cleansing breath. Several months. Okay. He could handle that. Spike probably could, too. And Xander could continue to babysit. It’s not like he was desperately needed anywhere else anyway. But they couldn’t just stay at the Monaco. Their patience and the credit card had limits. Besides…fuck. Angel. What was up with him?

In a calm, tight voice, Xander said, “Why didn’t you do something more reversible, if you’re such a great guy?”

“I didn’t have a lot of time. And with vampires, there aren’t really that many viable options.”

Xander sighed. What was done, was done. “Tell me everything you know about this guy who sicced you on Spike.”

Vega seemed almost eager to comply now. “It’s not much. He’s not from around here. He was about your age. Like I said, kind of short, muscular, really good looking, actually. Dark hair, blue eyes. A southern accent, and he was dressed sort of like a cowboy, you know? Pointy boots, big shiny belt buckle, like that.”

“Did he tell you his name?”

“McDonald. He said his name’s McDonald.”

The name didn’t mean anything to Xander, but it might be fake, and besides, he supposed Angel had had plenty of opportunity to collect enemies. Maybe Spike knew who he was.

Xander looked across the table at the wizard. He was still furious with the man, but the heat had gone out of it. He believed Vega’s tale, and he even believed that he was remorseful over what he’d done. It didn’t excuse him, and Xander didn’t forgive him, but there didn’t seem to be much point in taking it out on him either. Let Spike get his revenge if he wanted to.

Xander wiped his mouth with the red cloth napkin and stood. “Thanks for the date. It’s been a blast.”

He was going to walk away, but Vega said “Wait!”

Xander looked at him.

“You’re going to try to help Angel, aren’t you?”

“He’s even less of my friend than Spike was.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna help him. You’re that type, aren’t you? I can tell.”

Xander snorted but didn’t deny it. He was that type, damnit.

“Let me give you a couple things that might help. I mean, I don’t know what you’re going up against, but I have a couple good all-purpose tricks in my bag.”

“Yeah, you’re full of tricks.”

“Please. Let me help. Let me do this.”

Fuck. “Fine. Fine.”

“Can you stop by the shop tomorrow morning?”

It could be a trap. But Xander didn’t think it was, and if the wizard really did have something that’d assist him…well, he could use all the help he could get. “Okay. Ten?”

“Great. I really am sor--.” He stopped himself and smiled wryly. Then he pushed his untouched plate away and stood. “I’m guessing a good night kiss is out of the question, but maybe a shake?” He held out his hand.

But Xander didn’t take it. “Touching me would be a bad idea. Ramped up jealousy in a vampire isn’t a pretty thing, pal.”

Vega let his hand drop and he nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

 

The walk back was pleasant. It had actually cooled off a little tonight, and there was a breeze coming in from the lake. Xander had got some useful information, some faith that Spike’s problem would go away eventually, and he hadn’t managed to get himself turned into a toad in the process. Even the food had been decent.

So he was feeling relatively good as he rode the elevator up, but also worried. What if Spike had flipped out while he was gone? There were no dismembered bodies littering the hallway, in any case, and he took that as good sign.

He got to room 1026, slid his key through the sensor, and opened the door. He stepped inside, through the little foyer near the bathroom, and then he froze in shock.

Nearly every horizontal surface in the room was covered in flowers.

There were bunches of roses on the desk, irises on the armchair, and carnations on the bed. Even the top of the tall armoire held vases full of brightly colored blooms. More—yellow, pink, red, white; Xander didn’t know what kind they were—were scattered around the floor.

Leaning up against the window was a blond vampire. His duster was on, and his arms were wrapped tightly around himself. He was glowering at his boots.

It took several minutes before Xander found his voice again. When he did, it was still sort of a squeak. “Spike? What’s this?”

Spike didn’t look up. “Gratitude,” he growled. “I was feeling bloody thankful for all you’ve done for me.”

The hardest thing Xander Harris had ever done in his entire life was not laugh right then. But he didn’t. Instead he walked across the room, avoiding several pots of African violets along the way, and stood a few feet from Spike. “Thanks,” he said. “Nobody’s ever bought me flowers before.”

Spike snapped his head up angrily, as if he expected Xander to tease, but all Xander did was crook the corner of his mouth in a smile.

Spike’s scowl began to crack, and then his mouth was twitching, and he was smiling, too, and then chuckling. Within seconds, they were both howling so hard with laughter that they’d collapsed into the floor, into each others’ arms. Tears were streaming from Xander’s eyes and he was damn close to wetting his pants.

They eventually caught their breath again. They were on their backs, Xander’s head pillowed by Spike’s hard stomach. Several upset vases surrounded them, leaking water and petals onto the carpet.

Then Xander had a thought. “You used the Council credit card for this, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Xander started giggling again. “Giles is gonna have an aneurysm.”

Spike snorted out more laughter that shook Xander’s head. Xander scooted around until he was lying alongside Spike, resting his head on his shoulder instead. He wrapped an arm around Spike’s middle.

“Did you learn something from that git?” Spike rumbled into Xander’s ear.

“Yeah. A lot, actually.”

“Did he…did you let him….”

“Not a single finger, Spike.”

Spike let out a long and noisy sigh. “Good,” he said, and nuzzled into Xander’s hair. “I know I’ve no right, but good.”

“As far as I’m concerned, if anybody’s going to touch me right now, it’s going to be you, okay?”

“Yeah? Like this?” Spike snaked his hand down, past the waistband of Xander’s pants and boxers, and onto the skin just below the small of his back.

“Like that is nice.”

Xander moved closer. It was nice. Until he’d found Spike, he hadn’t done much snuggling since, well, since Anya. He liked having another body to rest against, and, it turned out, the fact that the body was male was a plus.

They were quiet for a while, and Xander wondered why Spike bothered to breathe. Was it reflex? Did it feel strange if he didn’t? Then Xander had another idea. He turned his head slightly and pressed his lips to Spike’s delicate neck, and nibbled very lightly. He was rewarded with a hissed intake of oxygen and an all-over shudder.

“Bloody hell!” Spike said hoarsely.

“Good touching?” Xander asked with another little bite. Spike only groaned in reply, so Xander slid his arm down, until his palm was resting on the hardening bulge beneath Spike’s fly.

Xander continued to bite and suck and rub, and within minutes Spike was arching and writhing on the floor, little inchoate sounds of pleasure escaping his throat. Xander was enveloped in the vampire’s scent of leather and copper and hair gel and, now, flowers, too.

“Stop!” Spike gasped. “Gonna…make me…come in my trousers.”

Xander didn’t stop, though. He simply continued his administrations by mouth and hand. And then when he took the tender skin in his blunt teeth and pressed down hard enough that he tasted Spike’s blood, Spike roared and bucked, and Xander felt the coolness of his spend seeping through the denim.

Spike continued to quiver for several seconds and Xander gently licked and sucked at the small wound he’d made. Finally Spike was panting, but still. He turned his head to the side and raised one eyebrow. “Pet?” he said.

Xander grinned wickedly. “That was about the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on.”

“Yeah? Let’s see what we can get up to with your kit off, then.”

And, for quite some time, they did.

 

Xander swept the last of the crushed flowers onto the floor with his leg and wondered how much he was going to have to tip housekeeping to make up for this mess. He looked around the room at the sea of color and laughed. It was going to have to be a very big tip.

Then he fell back on his pillow, completely drained. There had been the dinner with the wizard, the emotional roller coaster of his vamp roommate (and, he guessed, lover), a couple rounds of entirely enthusiastic sex (assisted by the fact that gratitude-filled Spike had bought lube as well as posies), and then telling Spike everything he’d learned from Vega.

Spike had taken the news of the lack of cure pretty well. He had a moment of anxiety about how he’d manage, until Xander assured him that Xander would stick by him as long as he wanted. Spike had nursed contentedly at Xander’s neck for several minutes after that.

Then Xander told him of the plot against Angel, and of this McDonald guy, and Spike jumped up from the bed and hurled several bunches of flowers against the walls. As tantrums went, it was fairly harmless, and then he crawled back under the sheets and up against Xander again.

“I know the wanker,” Spike said. “He was one of those lawyers.”

“I thought they were all dead.”

“They were. But the buggers tend not to stay dead very well.”

“Huh. There’s a lot of that going around.”

Spike lifted up on his elbows and looked sharply at Xander. “Do you wish I’d stayed dead, Xander? You wouldn’t be saddled with me now.”

Xander squeezed Spike’s bare ass. “This kind of saddling is of the good. I prefer you non-dusty.”

Spike smiled and collapsed back onto Xander’s chest. “I expect the cowboy has a bit of a gripe with Angel. He was working on our side at the end, and Peaches had him shot.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t trust him.”

“So, what? Just, _blam_, in cold blood?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

They said nothing for a long time, as Spike played with the sticky mixture of lube and drying semen on Xander’s belly, and Xander ran his fingers through Spike’s hair. Then Spike sighed. “I have to go help him.”

“I know. We can leave tomorrow evening if you want.”

Spike stilled his hand. “You don’t have to go, pet. Know you can’t stand the pillock.”

“No, I really can’t, but I’ll go anyway.”

“Look, when you promised to stay with me until I’m sorted—that wasn’t taking this into account.”

“Yes it was. Because when I promised, I’d already pretty much figured you’d want to run to the rescue. Besides, I’d meant to go anyway. If for no other reason than I’m pretty ticked at this McDonald guy myself, after what he’s done to you.”

Spike regarded him with serious blue eyes. “Still a white hat, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what else to be, Spike.”

Spike put his head back down on Xander’s chest, with his ear directly over Xander’s heart. Xander wondered for a moment what it was going to feel like when he had to lie in bed alone again, without this strong body against his, and then he pushed that thought quickly away. He’d have plenty of time to agonize over that later.

“There’s a business center downstairs. I’ll go book us a couple of tickets to LA tomorrow night.”

“Won’t work.”

“Sure it will. Council will pony up for it, if they haven’t cancelled the card over the flowers. I’ll just get us a red-eye so we can avoid incineration.”

“I don’t have ID.”

“Crap. Crap! Giles could get you some—he’s done it for me before, more than once—but it’d take, I don’t know, six or seven days, probably, to get here.”

“It’s already been a week since we spoke to Angel. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Okay. I guess it’s a road trip then.”

Spike sighed. “I expect so.”

“Angel said your car was impounded.”

“Won’t be able to get it without ID either.”

“Damnit! Okay, then. I’ll return the rental piece of shit I have now and get something better for a long drive.”

“Make sure it has a big boot.”

“Why?”

“So I have somewhere to go if I get caught in the sun.”

“Traveling with vampires is damn inconvenient.”

“Spent a century, on and off, wandering with Dru, didn’t I? At least I won’t try to name the stars at two in the bloody afternoon, or insist on stopping to buy tea things for my dollies.”

Xander snorted out a laugh. “Big boot it is, then. Anything else?”

“Cooler for blood. Don’t fancy running out in Utah.”

“Cooler. Check.”

“Don’t expect you could dig up some weapons of some sort?”

“Mmm, maybe. Vega said he had some lovely parting gifts for me.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah. But weapons, check.”

“That’s it.”

“No souvenirs from your visit to Chicago?”

“I’d say I have my souvenirs already, love.”

“I guess so. Me too. I’ve picked up a whole new sexual orientation.”

Spike tickled his armpit.

 

Around 2 am, Xander called Giles.

“Xander! What on earth are you up to?”

Xander suppressed a giggle. The poor man hadn’t even seen the credit card bill yet. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Please. Enlighten me.”

Xander rolled his eyes. Somehow Giles could always make him feel like he was fifteen again. But Xander told him what had been happening—minus the vampire sexcapades part—and what their plans were.

“Xander, you can’t be thinking of driving across the country with Spike in his…unstable status.”

“I can. I am.”

“Don’t be stupid! It’s dangerous.”

“No more than, say, trying to find Slayer wannabes in war zones.”

Giles didn’t have an answer for that.

“I’m gonna do it, Giles. I’d appreciate your support, but I’ll do it without.”

Giles let out one of his drama queen sighs. “Very well. You can continue to use the card. And I’ll see if there’s anything I can find out to assist you.”

“Thanks. Hey, how’re Buffy and the baby doing?”

“Well. They’re home now. Jack is beaming. Willow is hovering. They’re worried about you, though.”

Xander smiled at the warmth in Giles’s voice that let him know that Giles was worried, too. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Two thousand miles with a nutso vampire to save another vampire from a resurrected evil lawyer. What could possibly go wrong?”

[Chapter Seven](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/53001.html)


	7. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (7/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 7/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00022wsf/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Seven**

 

The rental car reeked. It had been sitting in the garage, untouched, since Xander fished Spike out of the sewers. The un-air conditioned garage in Chicago in August. Xander was fairly certain there were several new life forms growing inside of it. The Avis people must have felt so, too, because while they were forced to take this car back, and couldn’t charge him extra, they refused to rent him a replacement.

And then maybe he instantly got on some kind of rental car blackball list, because nobody else was willing to loan him a car to drive to LA either. He was discouraged at first, but then had another idea. He called a taxi and had it take him to some nearby car dealerships. A couple hours and some hard bargaining later, he was the proud owner of a used Dodge Sprinter. Or, technically, the Council was. The van didn’t have a trunk to stuff Spike in, but it had been a delivery vehicle in its former life, and the entire windowless back compartment could be shut off from the front, making it lightproof. Spike would have plenty of room to stretch out there. Xander could crash back there while Spike drove, too, which would get them to California all the faster.

The salesman gave him directions to the nearest Walmart, where he bought a big red cooler and a bunch of blankets and pillows. Might as well be comfortable for the drive. He bought a road atlas, too.

He drove back into the city. It was a Saturday and traffic was light. He even found a place to park outside Vega’s store. He was late—he’d promised ten and it was past noon—and he wondered whether the wizard would be there.

He was. As soon as Xander walked inside, Vega hurried over. “Xander!”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“I was worried! I thought maybe something happened to you. Like…like a vampire attack.” As he finished his sentence, he stared pointedly at the red mark on Xander’s neck, which wasn’t hidden by the collar of his t-shirt.

Xander blushed slightly. “Not all vampire attacks are bad things,” he mumbled.

Vega raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t gay?”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m not particularly straight either.”

“Xander, I know Spike has a soul, but with the spell--”

“Christ! _You’re_ not going to try to warn me off him, too, are you? I don’t think you’re in any position to be doing that, hex-man.”

Vega sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Come here. I have a few things for you.”

Xander followed him over to the counter, where there were several objects laid out. Vega picked up the first one. It was a small plastic pillbox of the kind you could buy in any drugstore. He opened it, and inside was a single pill, a big, dull yellow one. “If you swallow this, you’ll be invisible for four hours.” Xander’s eyes bugged out slightly. “Not inaudible, and people can feel you. They can see anything you wear or carry, too. Even your patch. It just works on your body.”

“So I have to be naked invisible guy?”

“Exactly. And it won’t work for Spike. The body has to be alive.”

“Okay.” Xander took the plastic box and stuck it in his pocket.

Next, the wizard pointed to a knife without touching it. It looked like a hunting weapon, with a wide, jagged blade and a carved bone handle. “It’s enchanted. It’ll be bound to the next person who touches it. Once it’s bound to you, all you have to do is call it, and it’ll find you, even several miles away.”

“How do you call a knife?”

“I’ll show you. Touch it.”

Gingerly, Xander pressed a single finger to the handle. Vega nodded.

“Okay. Stand over there and say ‘kisu.’”

“Hey. That’s Swahili.”

“You know Swahili?”

“A little.”

Vega looked impressed.

“Kisu,” said Xander. The blade came flying off the counter, straight at him, and he had a split second to conclude that this was some convoluted trick of the wizard’s, but then the knife slowed, and it nestled itself gently into his right hand. He whistled. “Wow!”

“Handy, huh?” Vega grinned. “Okay, one more thing. This one’s for Spike.” He lifted a small brown bottle between his fingers. “There a salve inside. If he rubs it on the skin over his heart, he’ll be able to go out in the sun.”

Xander gasped and Vega lifted up his free hand in warning. “Just for one day! After that, it’s worn off and he’ll burn. But it’ll last from one sun-up to sundown. Just make sure he uses the whole bottle.” He held it out, and Xander shoved that in his pocket, too.

Xander was looking at the knife, trying to decide where to put it—walking around the city with a big blade in his hand was probably unwise—when Vega ducked behind the counter. He came back up again with a black leather sheath that was attached to a belt. “Here,” he said, sliding it over the glass toward Xander. “This ought to work.”

The knife fit perfectly, and Xander happily buckled it around his waist. It would still look odd, but be a lot less likely to get him arrested.

Vega came back around the counter and walked with Xander to the door. “I know you said you didn’t want to hear it, but I really am sorry. And I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

“That whole come-on, with the kiss…that wasn’t part of the get rid of Spike plan?”

“The only thing I planned for you, Xander, was to get you into bed with me. I’m truly sorry that plan didn’t succeed. But it was a nice kiss.” He smiled, and a little sparkle returned to his eyes.

Xander stuck out his hand, and the other man shook it. “It was a nice kiss. Thanks for the toys,” Xander said.

“Good luck, Xander.”

 

Spike was pacing anxiously across their room.

“What took you so long?!” he yelled as soon as Xander was in the door.

“Transportation arrangements.” Xander set the cooler down on the floor.

“You could have called.”

“Thought you’d still be asleep.”

“Wasn’t.” Spike crossed his arms around himself and stomped to the curtained window, where he stood with his back to Xander.

“Sorry. I’m not used to checking in with someone regularly.”

Spike’s back was stiff.

“C’mon. I got us a cool ride, and Vega gave us some neat stuff.”

Spike swung around to glare at him. “I expect you were having a jolly old time with the wizard.”

“Spike. Power pouting is not a good look on a vampire.” Except it kind of was, because Spike’s lower lip was stuck out a little, and his lashes were lowered, and he looked altogether delicious, actually.

Xander prowled closer until he was almost touching Spike, and then whispered in his ear: “When I got too sulky, my parents used to threaten to spank me.”

Spike glowered a moment longer, then gave in. “Sodding spell. I expect you’d enjoy that.”

“Spanking? Maybe.”

The pout turned into a leer. “Giving or taking, pet?”

Xander leered right back. “It’s negotiable.”

A beat, then, “You’re more bent than I expected.”

“One word, Spike. Anya.”

As Spike looked at him thoughtfully, Xander went to the armoire and began pulling out his clothing. His suitcase was slightly more worse for the wear after a couple of Spike’s fits of temper, but it still held everything. “Want me to put your stuff in here, too?” he asked.

“Yeah. Ta.”

Xander stuffed his luggage full of their clothes and books and toiletries. “Got enough blood for the road, Spike?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. Ordered some yesterday, remember?”

“Okay. We can leave now if you want. The van’s vamp-safe, and it’s down in the garage, so you can get to it okay. I’ll take the first shift driving.”

“All right.” Spike looked relieved to be almost on the road. He emptied the contents of the fridge into the cooler.

They took a last look around the room, lifting vases and flowers to make sure they had all their belongings. Xander had made a cash withdrawal while he was running errands, and now he left a dozen twenties on the desk. Maybe that would soften the blow when the maid saw the state of the room.

They picked up their things and took the elevator down to the lobby. While the desk clerk flirted with Spike, Xander signed the bill, wincing at the total. Back in Sunnydale, he could have lived for half a year off that much money.

Spike sneered when he saw the van.

“Okay, it’s not very stylish,” Xander said, shoving the suitcase in the back. “But it’ll get us there. Look.” He pointed at the interior.

Spike poked his head in and took in the pile of bedding.

“Better than a trunk, isn’t it? And it gets better mileage than that De Soto you used to drive.”

“Used to nick Peaches’s Viper,” Spike said mournfully. “It was necrotinted and everything.”

“Yeah? Well, I used to be happy when I got to drive my Uncle Rory’s piece of shit Ford. This is a Rolls Royce by comparison, and I ain’t complaining. So all aboard.”

Spike hoisted the cooler inside and climbed on into the back. Xander showed him how they could close the partition, which had an opening small enough to keep out the light, but big enough that they could still hear each other.

“Ready?” Xander asked, turning on the engine.

“Ready.”

“Westward ho.”

 

They made good time through Illinois, and it was dusk by the time they got past Des Moines. Xander pulled over at a gas station with a Burger King next door. While Spike filled the van’s tank, Xander filled his own with a Whopper and fries. Then they swapped spots, and Spike took his turn driving while Xander snuggled into the blankets in the back.

“I didn’t tell you yet about what Vega gave us,” Xander yawned.

“A curse, and trouble for Angel?”

“Besides that.”

“What?”

“A magic knife for me, and a pill that’ll make me invisible for a while.”

Spike snorted.

“You’ll probably only use it to spy on birds undressing.”

“Why would I do that when I can see you undressed instead?”

Xander could tell by the set of Spike’s shoulders that he was pleased with that.

“And he gave me something for you, too.”

“Don’t know if I fancy a pressie from a wizard.”

“Oh, you’ll like this. It’s magic goo. Spread it on, and you can be out in the sun for one whole day.”

“Bloody hell!” Spike whispered.

Xander let his eyes fall shut. He’d always liked the feeling of a moving vehicle under him. Back when he was little, his family took an annual trip to Denver to visit his grandparents. He’d stretch out in the back seat, tune out his parents’ perpetual bickering, and just feel the miles roll away beneath him. Trains were even better than cars. And ships—ships were the best of all. Like napping in a rocking cradle.

“What would you do with it, Spike?” he asked sleepily.

“With what?”

“Your day in the sun.”

“Last time I tried to kill the Slayer.”

“Mmm. Gem.”

“Yeah.”

Another huge yawn. “So now?”

“Walk on the beach. Bloody seaside was always cold and wet when I was alive.”

Xander fell asleep as Spike was speculating aloud about whether vampires could tan.

 

Xander woke up groggy and disoriented. It was pitch dark, and at first he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered, and he realized that the van wasn’t moving. “Spike?” he called.

There was no answer. He sat up and peeked through the partition, to discover that the front of the van was empty. He opened the barrier and peered outside. It looked like they were in a large, empty parking lot, but there were no lights and he couldn’t see much. The moon was full, but it was cloudy out. He glanced at the dashboard. The keys were still in the ignition. Good.

He opened the driver’s side door and stepped outside, stretching and groaning when he first hit the blacktop. They were the only car in the lot. A large building loomed just across the street, and there was a much smaller one off to one side, with a small pool of yellow light around its door. An elevated highway curved behind the lot. He could hear an occasional car zooming by. There was no sign of Spike.

“Spike?” he yelled. No response. Where the hell was he? It’s not like a vampire needed pit stops. Xander called again, louder, but the only answer was the echo of his own voice.

He jogged off to the back of the lot, under the highway. There were some railroad tracks there, and beyond that he could see nothing. Where the fuck were they, anyhow?

He ran toward the small building. There was a sign over the door: _Champions Club_. Okay. But there were two flags as well. One of them was Old Glory, and the other was red, with a big white “N”. He realized then that the big building nearby was a stadium, and he knew where he was. Nebraska. Lincoln, to be exact. That was helpful, but he doubted Spike had had a sudden yearning for Herbie Husker memorabilia. Where was his vampire?

Uncertain about what to do, Xander returned to the van and leaned against the front. The hood was cool. That meant they’d been parked here a while. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. Just past three. Another three hours or so until sunrise. With no better plan of action, and no clue where to begin looking, he sat on the hard tarmac with his back against one tire and waited.

He waited a long time. Maybe even dozed off. But then he heard a noise and he lurched upward, his back stiff and his skin chilled. It was the sound of running footsteps, but with a strange rhythm, and they were coming closer. He squinted into the darkness. “Spike?” he said, slightly hesitantly. The footfalls came faster, and faster yet, and he tensed. And…there! Oh, thank fuck! “Spi—“

Before he could get the name out, the vampire was on him, knocking him bodily to the ground. “Ow!” he said as his head bounced none-to-gently against the pavement.

Spike moved just a bit and Xander’s breath stopped as he got a good look at him. He was vamped out. His face was red with blood, and one whole side of his head was matted with it. An enormous, gaping slash extended from his neck and down his chest. His eyes were yellow and alien.

He snarled at Xander and bared his teeth. Xander felt cool liquid soaking through his clothes, making his stomach and his legs wet, and he realized with a sick twist to his gut that that was blood, Spike’s blood. Spike was badly injured.

“Spike,” he whispered, but the vampire growled at him. There was a whimpering, desperate edge to the sound.

Fuck. He was hurt, and he was hungry, and he needed human blood. Not the animal stuff they’d filled the cooler with because Spike said it kept better, and because it led to fewer hard-to-answer questions if the car was ever searched.

“All right,” he said softly, and he tilted his head to one side, baring his neck before the demon.

Quick as a flash, Spike bit him.

It was different than last time. Yeah, the fangs still hurt. But the last time—was it only a few weeks ago?—it had been that annoying, aggravating vampire who attacked him. That arrogant, snarky, formerly mass-murdering fiend who’d tried to kill him when he was evil and just irritated the hell out of him when he wasn’t. And yet that first bite had still felt very, very good.

But now, this was Spike. The man whom he’d been sharing a room and a bed with, whom he’d spent more time with than anyone in years, whom he’d comforted and laughed with, and into whose body he had blissfully sunk only twenty-four hours ago.

This felt like every inch of his body, inside and out, had been turned into one giant erogenous zone. He couldn’t have tried to stop this if an apocalypse was happening three feet away. Wouldn’t have wanted to. He clutched Spike tighter to him and howled as an orgasm ripped through his body like a tornado. But Spike kept feeding and Xander’s cock was still hard and he felt another gale-force wind gathering in his core and gods, this was a feeling worth dying for. He came again, bucking and thrusting up against that hard body, and little sparkly lights danced at the edges of his vision. He didn’t know if it was from blood loss or the force of his climax and he didn’t much care, because he was pretty sure he could come again before he was drained.

Spike tore his head away and screamed. Xander tried to hold onto him, but he was weak, and Spike was so strong, and Spike was across the parking lot and gone before Xander could even sit up.

Xander looked up at the sky and swore. It was almost dawn.

Using the van for balance, he heaved himself to his feet. “Spike!” he shouted with all his might, but of course there was no reply.

Xander didn’t know how long he leaned against the car, his legs shaking, tears blinding his one eye. But when he finally straightened up, it was fully light out and he was still alone.

He looked down at himself. His t-shirt and jeans were coated in sticky gore. He could feel more dried blood flaking on his neck. His shirt had rucked up during the attack, and his back itched from bits of dirt and grit. He had a mental image of what he would look like to a passerby: a one-eyed, filthy maniac.

Unsteadily, he let himself back into the van. He stripped off his ruined clothes and used some of the melted ice in the cooler to wash his face and neck and groin and hands. Then he pulled a clean set of clothes out of the suitcase and put them on. Beside the passenger seat were the warm remains of a giant cup of Coke, as well as a half-eaten bag of Doritos. He ate the chips and drank the soda, grimacing at the taste but hoping to replenish some body fluids and blood sugar.

A short time later, he was startled by a knock at his window. He turned and looked. A police officer was frowning in at him. “What are you doing here, sir?” asked the cop.

“Just resting a little.”

“You’re not a student here?”

“No. We’re traveling through, and—“

“Sir, this is a student parking lot, not a campground.”

Xander looked out at the lot, which was still empty except for his van and the patrol car. “I understand. But, I mean, parking doesn’t seem to be a problem today.”

“Fall semester hasn’t begun yet, sir.”

“Well, I’ll be long gone before it does.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Xander sighed. Arguing with this guy wasn’t going to get him anything but trouble. He’d rather the nice officer not see his blood-drenched clothes, or the great big knife tucked under the blankets in back. And in any case, it’s not like Spike was going to come loping across the parking lot in the bright morning sun.

“All right,” Xander said, getting up and moving to the driver’s seat. “I’m leaving.”

The cop watched him as he started the engine and pulled away.

 

Even if he’d been in the mood for tourism, Lincoln wasn’t exactly a tourist hotspot. Xander drove aimlessly for a while, through campus and the small downtown, past the phallic capitol building, and then south for a while until he was out of town. Then he circled back.

He parked the van downtown and walked around, and eventually he came to a coffee house and stepped inside. It had exposed brick walls with various pieces of art hanging on them, each labeled neatly. The ceiling was high, and fans lazily moved the air around. A dozen or so people were seated at an eclectic array of tables. Xander went to the counter and ordered a big coffee and an OJ and a bagel and a piece of chocolate cake. He was suddenly ravenous.

He sat in a comfortable chair by the window and ate and drank. He got refills for the coffee, and the cute girl at the counter, who had multicolored hair and a pierced eyebrow, smiled at him each time. He watched people walk by. There weren’t many of them; it was a Sunday, after all. He thought about calling London, but what good would that do? If he told them what happened, he’d only get more lectures about being near Spike, and he so didn’t need to hear that right now. He did try Angel again, just for the hell of it, but of course got no answer. And he worried. How badly was Spike hurt? What had happened to him? Had he made it somewhere safe before the sunrise? Would Xander be able to find him?

He spent most of the day at the coffee house. Nobody seemed to mind.

It got busier around dinner time, and Xander stopped by the counter and left a twenty in the tip jar, then left. This time he veered toward campus, wandering past the buildings. Again, there were very few people around. A few teenagers on skateboards and a couple of jock types. A pair of middle-aged women in shorts and headbands. A harried professor-looking guy with a battered briefcase under one arm, limping quickly down the sidewalk. Xander sat on a bench for a while, then got up, walked for a while, and sat on another.

When his stomach began to rumble again, maybe an hour before sunset, he went back to the van. There was a sandwich shop just down the block, so he downed a roast beef sub and some chips. Finally, he got back in the van and drove to the parking lot where Spike had disappeared. He hoped the cops were nowhere around.

He parked exactly where they’d been before. Then he did a quick circuit of the area, trying to find any signs of Spike, to get any idea where a vampire might hide out. As he searched, the sun went down.

Two hours later, he was exhausted and he’d found nothing. Deep in the back of his brain, a nasty voice was telling him there was nothing to find, that all that was left was a pile of dust, mixed now among the dirt alongside the railroad tracks. Xander refused to listen to that voice.

He sank down on a broken piece of curbing, trying not to sink into despair as well. Spike couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t.

And then a small rustle caught his attention.

It didn’t sound like footsteps. It was more like the swish of something creeping through grass. He stood and looked around him, but the moon was obscured by clouds again tonight, and he saw nothing but blackness.

The rustle came again, closer.

“Who’s there?” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Silence.

A few minutes later, another rustle.

And then, suddenly, a rush and a roar. He braced himself for another assault, and he could see that whatever was coming at him was on all fours, and was certainly not a vampire.

And then there was another bellow, and another rush in his direction, and he had just enough time to think, “Oh, fuck. It’s a pack.”

But instead of coming at him, the second creature slammed into the first one, throwing it off balance. There was an earsplitting chorus of growls and howls and screams, and as a stray beam of moonlight broke through, Xander saw a blond vampire in a leather duster grappling with an enormous dog. Not a dog, of course. A wolf. A werewolf.

Blood and fur were flying everywhere, and it was a terrible fight. Xander had witnessed a lot of battles. Taken part in plenty of them, too. And with his one practiced eye, he could tell that Spike was weakened and losing.

Without even thinking about it, Xander shouted, “Kisu!” There was the crash and tinkle of broken glass way across in the parking lot, the _whoosh_ of a flying missile, and then the knife was nestled snugly in his grip.

Xander had, of course, experience with werewolves. He knew it would take a silver blade to kill one, and he was pretty sure his new knife was steel. But even steel could do some damage, and so he strode toward the snarling mass and plunged the knife deeply into a furry flank. The wolf screamed. Xander withdrew the knife and thrust it in again, and again, and again, until he realized the beast was still, its nearly severed head cradled in the vampire’s hands.

Xander and Spike looked at each other. “Spike,” Xander said, but the vampire was gone, lurching across the weeds. Xander called the knife to his hand again and looked down at the corpse at his feet. It was no longer an animal, but instead a naked, balding, middle-aged man. With a small start, Xander recognized him. He wondered where the professor’s briefcase was now.

And then Xander took off after Spike.

It was easy to track him this time. Spike was moving slowly. Xander found him huddled in a miserable ball, half underneath a small shed.

For what seemed like the zillionth time, Xander said his name, but this time softly, gently. “Spike.”

“Piss off!” Spike yelled.

“No.”

“I’m not one of your sodding Scoobies! I’m a fucking vampire and I bit you and I’ll do it again.”

“Good.”

Spike unfolded himself and looked at him incredulously. “Good? Good!? I fucking _ate_ you, you twat!”

“I wanted you to, moron! It felt really goddamn good. And you were hungry and you needed to feed.”

Spike suddenly stood and pulled Xander up by his shirt. He vamped out, his bloody fangs inches from Xander’s face. “Look what I am! I’m a fucking demon. I’ve bathed in the blood of thousands of humans, tasted their life pouring down my throat, felt their bodies twitching and dying beneath me. Look at what I AM!!” he roared.

Xander lifted his arms and cupped Spike’s face in his hands. He moved his own face even closer, focusing his eye on one of the furious yellow ones before him. “I see what you are,” he said quietly. And he leaned his forehead against the bumpy one.

With a terrible cry, Spike released his grip on Xander’s shirt and crumpled to the ground. Xander collapsed too, and gathered Spike into his arms, and felt Spike’s tears dampening his shoulder.

They stayed like that a long time, rocking slightly.

At long last, Spike said in a broken voice, “You have to go. You—“

Xander pushed him away and narrowed his eyes. “Listen to me. I’m. Not. Fucking. Leaving. You. You’ve bitten me twice—once at my invitation—and twice you’ve stopped yourself before you drank too much. And tonight you saved me from a fucking werewolf, Spike. It almost tore you apart. You’re stuck with me, so stop telling me to leave.”

Spike looked at him, and then he nodded.

Xander stood and helped Spike to his feet. Spike had to lean heavily on him as they made their way to the van. Xander shook his head slightly at the window that had broken when he called the knife. Xander helped Spike inside, and when he saw his condition under the bright dome light, he hissed in shock. Spike was a goddamn mess.

With an odd sense of déjà vu, Xander helped Spike peel off his shredded clothing, and he wiped him fairly clean with the cooler water, and Spike guzzled the remaining bags of blood on the principle that animal was better than nothing. Xander pulled out his handy dandy first aid kit and taped up the worst of Spike’s wounds, giving each a little kiss as he went. Then he wrapped Spike in the blankets and shoved some pillows under him and ordered him to get some sleep.

Spike blinked at him, clearly exhausted. “You’re not going to drive, pet. You look knackered.”

“No. I’ll get us a motel room and crash for a while.”

“Good.”

Xander started to move to the front of the van, but Spike grabbed his shirt. “Wait,” Spike said.

“What? Is something the matter?”

Spike pulled Xander closer and struggled upright, and then pressed his lips against Xander’s. It wasn’t the most passionate of kisses, but it was sweet and tender and it made Xander’s heart melt. Then Spike fell back onto the pillows again and Xander went to look for a room.

[Chapter Eight](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/53551.html)


	8. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Hard-Bitten (8/11)**_  
**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 8/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

[Click here to vote on how I post Chapters 10 and 11!](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/53338.html)

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00029s7b/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Eight**

 

“You’ve been working out, yeah?”

“Sure. Been doing lots of vampire carrying reps.” Xander set Spike gently on the bed.

“You were stowing a few too many doughnuts for a bit there.”

“Africa fixed that. Not a whole lot of Krispy Kremes there,” Xander grinned. “I’m gonna go grab the suitcase and cooler. Want me to run you a bath when I get back?”

“Yeah. Ta.”

Xander went back out to the parking lot. It was a Motel 6. Not as nice as the Monaco, but then they weren’t planning to spend weeks here. It had a bed and a tub, and that was the main thing. And the room opened directly into the parking lot, so Xander didn’t have to worry about how to smuggle a mangled demon through the lobby. Xander hoisted the nearly empty cooler on one shoulder and the suitcase in one hand and returned to the room. He was going to have to find a way to get Spike more blood pronto, but first he could get Spike cleaned and settled in for the day. And a shower sounded good to him too.

He started the tub filling, then got Spike. He’d carried Spike in from the van wearing nothing but his duster and a blanket, so it was simple to strip him and then carry him into the bathroom. The water turned muddy pink as soon as Spike was in it, and Xander knew it was going to take several water changes to get Spike clean.

Spike leaned his head back and closed his eyes as Xander dabbed gently at the slashes and bite marks that covered his body. “Want to tell me how you ended up wolf wrestling, Spike?”

Spike sighed. “Stopped for petrol. You were out cold, snoring away. But when I got out to fill the tank, I could smell wolf and fresh human blood. So I followed the scent. It wasn’t far.”

“Now who’s the white hat?”

Spike snorted. “Was only…curious.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Spike glared at him but Xander just smirked back.

“I followed the trail to that car park at the university. Then I got out to investigate.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Weres are nasty beasts, love. Thought you’d be safer in the van.”

Xander was instantly furious. “Look at me!” he yelled. Spike opened his eyes in surprise.

“I’m just the Zeppo, right? Nothing special. Not a single super power. But you know what? I’ve been fighting monsters for half my fucking life, and I’m still here. Only missing one little body part. Haven’t died even once, which is more than a lot of the people I know can say. And I don’t need you or anybody else deciding what’s safe for me!” Xander slammed the towel onto the side of the tub and stood. He stomped to the corner of the small bathroom and stood with his arms crossed and his back to Spike.

“Finished?”

Xander didn’t answer.

“You’re right. You’re a brave man and a good fighter and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Spike’s voice was soft as he said this, and Xander relented enough to turn and look at him. He saw Spike, naked and beat up and small and vulnerable-looking in the water, and his anger melted away. “Okay. Don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.”

Xander knelt again next to the tub. He looked at Spike earnestly. “You told me before to look at what you are. And I did. You’re a vampire, and…I accept you as a vampire. I…I _want_ you as a vampire.” He’d ducked his head as he said this last sentence, unable to meet Spike’s gaze. But now he looked straight into blue eyes. “You don’t have to want me, but accept me as I am. I’m not the sharpest tool in the box, but I’m not a fool, and I’m not a child, either.”

Spike lifted a hand out of the water and stroked Xander’s cheek with it. “No, you’re not. You’re strong, Xander. Strongest person I know. And I do want you, you know.”

Xander smiled. They were good words to hear, even if he knew they were only temporary. “Okay, then,” he said.

“We’re sorted?”

“I guess we are. Tell me more about the wolf.”

“It was wolves, pet, and that was the problem. At first I saw only one, feeding on a kill. Somebody’s going to have a nasty surprise next time they go looking through that field. When I saw what the wolf was doing, I lost my temper.” He sighed. “Stupid. Went after it without thinking. Got torn up a bit, but was getting the better of it—nearly had it dead. And then the other one attacked.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Perhaps I could have managed two if I was fresh from the start, but I was already tired and hurt by the time the second one got there. I did kill the first one, and crippled the second, but it nearly tore my head off.”

“I can see that.” The wound there was still open and gaping horribly.

“I got away. I expect I ran toward the van. Don’t much recall. It was too injured to follow.”

“And then you met up with me.”

Spike set his jaw and looked away. “Yeah.”

Xander gently turned Spike’s head back toward him. “I knew you were hungry, Spike. I…I trusted you. You didn’t bite until I told you to, and you stopped before you took too much. Against my objections, may I add, because sweet merciful Zeus!”

Spike squinted at him. “It doesn’t bother you to get off on a vampire bite?”

“Only the good, hot and bothered kind of bother.”

“Oh.”

“Spike, I lost my virginity to a Slayer gone bad. I almost married a former vengeance demon. A little nibble isn’t gonna disturb me.”

Spike blinked at him and then gave a small leer. “Imagine, then, what it feels like to get bitten while you’re shagging.”

Xander’s cock, which had been dozing away peacefully, woke up with a twitch. Xander splashed a handful of water at Spike’s face. “Don’t go putting ideas like that in my head when you’re in no condition to follow through. Evil undead guy.”

Spike laughed.

“So what did you do all day? How’d you not get crisped?”

“Hid in one of those sheds.”

“What were you going to do?”

“Dunno. Was considering watching the sunrise.”

“Jesus, Spike.”

“I was hurting, love. No way to mend. And…I couldn’t bear to hurt you again.”

“Don’t you think I’d be hurt if you dusted?”

Spike opened his mouth, blinked, and then closed it and swallowed.

“Were you still in the shed when the wolf came at me?”

“Yeah. I heard you calling. Wasn’t going to answer. But then I heard the wolf, too.”

“You saved me.”

“And you were handy with that blade, pet.”

Xander grinned. “That was a useful present.”

Spike’s head fell back again. His face was drawn and his body was clean, but still badly damaged. They needed to get some blood and some sleep and then get the fuck out of Dodge before the assortment of corpses behind the stadium was discovered. And Angel was still…wherever Angel was.

Xander stood. “Ready for bed?”

Spike nodded.

“’Kay.” Xander looked down at himself. His clothes were still covered in blood and grime. No sense getting Spike dirty again when he carried him. Xander pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop on the floor. He sure was going through a lot of clothing lately.

Suddenly, Spike hissed loudly. “Oh, love,” he groaned.

Xander looked at his shoulder, where Spike’s horrified gaze was pointed. He didn’t understand what the problem was. There were just a few minor scrapes, so small he hadn’t even realized they were there.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“It bit you.”

“It’s no big deal. You’re the one who was the real chew toy.”

“But I’m a vampire. I’ll mend just fine. You’re human, Xan, and you’ve been bitten by a werewolf.”

“So? What—Oh.” Spike’s point finally sunk in. “Oh.”

“Xander—“

“Wait. Just a minute. Just…. This won’t—it won’t affect me right away, right?”

“Not until the next full moon.”

Xander let out a long breath. “Okay, then. I’ll deal later. We have other fish to fry right now.”

“But—“

“I mean it! I’m good at denial. An expert. And any thoughts about turning furry are going to be struck firmly from my brain until later. Hey, look on the bright side. Maybe I’ll get killed trying to save Angel and then I won’t have to face it ever.”

Spike shook his head mournfully, but Xander reached into the water and pulled the plug. When the tub was drained, he wrapped a big towel around Spike’s shoulders, scooped him up, and carried him to the bed. “Get some sleep, Spike. You need it. We have a long drive still.”

Spike looked doubtful, but he was clearly still exhausted and in pain. His eyes fell closed, and within minutes he was deeply asleep.

Xander fished his cell phone off the bedside table and took it into the bathroom with him. He closed the door so as not to disturb Spike, and dialed England.

“Rupert Giles here.”

“Hi, G-Man.”

“Xander. Where are you?”

“Lincoln, Nebraska. And I’m really tired and I need to crash, so could you just listen? We can pretend you lectured me already, or you can save it for later, okay?”

Heavy sigh. “All right.”

“Thanks, Giles. Okay. Quick version: Spike’s hurt. Werewolf attack. We need human blood, like, now. Where can we get some?” The whole story, especially the parts where Xander got twice bitten, could wait for later. Much, much later.

Giles paused. He was probably polishing his glasses. But all he said was, “All right, Xander. I know someone who could get human blood, but I’m afraid he’s quite a distance away.”

“Where?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Shit.”

“Yes.”

“That’s, like, a thousand miles from here.”

“Erm…twelve hundred, actually. But it’s closer than LA. Can you make it there?”

“We’ll have to, I guess.” Xander felt dumb from fatigue. “Okay, thanks. I’ll, uh, call you later, okay?”

“Please do. And be—“

“Careful. I know. Bye, Giles.”

“Bye, Xander.”

 

When Xander woke up, it felt like he’d only slept for minutes. But the clock said 5:30pm, and his stomach agreed. He must have woken Spike up, too, because the vampire blinked blearily at him.

“Pet?” Spike croaked.

“Will you be all right if I go get something to eat? Then we can hit the road.” He didn’t need to tell Spike how long that road would be before they’d get him a decent feeding.

“Fine,” Spike replied. “I’ll have a bit more of a kip, yeah?”

“Good.” Xander leaned over and kissed the pale forehead.

He took a shower before he left, and that helped wake him up. It felt good to be clean again.

He’d noticed a grocery store nearby, one of those big, warehouse-style places. He steered the van over there. The butcher was willing to sell him a gallon or so of cow blood (for sausages, Xander lied, not very convincingly, but he got the blood anyway). He got some more ice for the cooler, too, and a bunch of food for himself. Stuff he could eat while he drove.

It was dusk by the time he returned. He hauled the cooler and suitcase back to the car and filled the cooler up. Then he bundled Spike in his duster and blanket and carried him to the van. He placed the vampire carefully in the nest of blankets and pillows. Spike moaned a little, but said he could manage. Then Xander checked out of the motel and headed west.

Spike drank a little and then fell back into a fitful sleep. Xander ate with one hand and drove with the other, trying to put the miles behind them as fast as he could.

Nebraska was fucking endless. It was all flat and nearly featureless, and sometimes Xander could almost swear they weren’t making any progress at all, like characters in an old cartoon, with the same background looping endlessly behind them. Finally, though, they were in Colorado and the land started to rise.

It was still dark when they blew past Denver. By Grand Junction, Xander had been driving nearly 9 hours and he couldn’t see straight any more. He pulled into a rest stop and climbed in the back. He woke Spike up enough to get him to eat some more—Spike had been semiconscious or out completely most of the night—and then Xander crawled carefully in beside him and went to sleep.

He woke up about three hours later, and it was fully light outside. He fed Spike some more, used the bathroom, and then climbed back in the driver’s seat.

By the time they arrived in Las Vegas, late in the afternoon, Xander felt like he’d spent his whole life behind the wheel. It didn’t help any that Spike had been moaning fitfully for miles, the constant bump and jostle of the ride having aggravated his injuries.

Xander knew this city fairly well. There was always a lot of demon activity here, so the Council had sent him on errands to Vegas more than once. He hadn’t minded. It beat, say, Detroit. And he could usually get in a little gambling or a show after he’d dealt with the demonic issues. His love of Cirque du Soleil was one of his deepest secrets.

But there’d be no acrobats this time. Xander found a motel downtown, one that wasn’t too skeezy but that allowed him to park right outside the room’s door. It was still light out, but with the help of a blanket and Spike’s coat, he was able to dash his vampire into the room combustion-free.

Spike was pretty much out of it, just whimpering and twitching slightly. Xander placed him on the bed, which looked entirely too inviting right now. But no rest for Xander yet. Instead, he smoothed at Spike’s hair for a moment and then dialed the number Giles had given him.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. My name’s Xander Harris, and—“

“Gotcha. Your Watcher told me the tale, kid.”

Xander didn’t bother explaining that Giles wasn’t strictly _his_ Watcher. “Okay, great. Can you get—“

“Some perky A Pos. No problemo.”

“Oh, thank gods. Can you get lots?”

“Sure thing. Where can I find you?”

“Best Western on Las Vegas Boulevard. Room 103.”

“I’ll be there in two shakes.”

Xander hung up feeling a little better. He sat next to Spike and drank some water, and tried to soothe a little of Spike’s pain away. Spike half-opened hazy eyes and rasped, “Where, love?”

“Vegas. And dinner’s on the way.”

Spike’s eyes fell closed again.

It felt like days, but it was less than half an hour later that there was a knock at the door. Xander got up and opened it, only to be faced with a tall green demon in a purple suit. The demon had red horns and red eyes, and he was carrying a big paper bag. “Delivery!” he sang.

Xander let him in. At this point, he would have let in anything that promised to help make Spike better.

“Hi,” said Xander.

“Hey there, pumpkin. I’m Lorne.”

Lorne walked over to the bed and looked down sadly at the torn and naked vampire. Xander hadn’t wanted to cover Spike’s wounds for fear that the fabric would stick to them, and he had nowhere near enough bandages. “Oh, Spikester,” the demon sighed. “What did you do to yourself this time?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah. We’re buds from way back. Haven’t seen him in years, though. Let’s say we get some of this red stuff in him, huh?”

Xander positioned himself next to Spike on the bed, and then carefully raised Spike’s upper body, supporting his head and back with his arm. Lorne dug in the bag and brought out a packet of blood. He darted into the bathroom and came back with a plastic cup, and then he tore open the packet and filled the cup half-full. He handed it to Xander.

Xander held the cup near Spike’s mouth. “Spike,” he said softly. “Open up. Down the hatch.”

Spike’s lips parted just a little, and Xander tipped the cup. Some of the blood dripped down Spike’s chin, but at least some got inside, and Xander was very relieved to see the vampire swallow. He tipped the cup some more, and soon the cup was empty, so Lorne refilled it.

By the time they’d emptied a half dozen bags, Spike’s eyes fluttered open. “Green jeans?” he whispered.

“Hey, slim,” Lorne responded, rubbing Spike’s arm.

“What…what…?”

“I’m your source for human blood in the greater Las Vegas area. Not a service I normally provide, actually, but I’ll make an exception for my little prince.”

“Cheers.”

Xander eased Spike back onto the pillows. “You want more now, Spike? Or in a while?”

“Sleep…a bit…yeah?” Spike’s voice was weak.

“Okay. I’ll wake you up in a while for round two.”

Spike’s eyes shut, but it seemed to Xander that he looked a little more peaceful already. Less like a murder victim and more like his normal, dead but sexy self.

Xander stood, and he and Lorne walked to the door. “Thanks, man,” Xander said. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“My pleasure, pilgrim. You want to tell me how he got in this state? Mr. Giles just said something about an attack.”

Xander considered this for a moment, He didn’t know this colorful creature. But Spike seemed comfortable with him, and Giles had trusted him enough to call him. “It’s kind of a long story. See, Angel sent Spike to Chicago, and—“

“Hold on there.” Lorne held up one long green hand. “I have a show to get to tonight. Let’s save some time. Sing me a song.”

“Huh?”

“A song, muffin. Just a few lines will do it.”

“Umm…what kind of song?” Was this guy crazy?

“Whatever you like. Just—no Sinatra, okay? I like to leave ol’ blue eyes for the professionals.”

Xander hesitated, but Lorne was smiling expectantly at him. Oookay. Xander had bought a couple of CDs for Spike before they left Chicago, and Spike had been humming along with one of them when Xander fell asleep in the van. So the first song that came to mind was a Clash tune, and Xander mumbled a verse to the demon:

 
    
    
    _I heard the people who lived on the ceiling_
    
    
    
    _Scream and fight most scarily_
    
    
    
    _Hearing that noise was my first ever feeling_
    
    
    
    _That's how it's been all around me_
    


Lorne put his hand up again. “Enough! Got it. Oh, honey. That’s quite a journey you’re on.” He patted Xander’s shoulder. “Buck up, all right? There’s a silver lining, I promise. It’ll be a little…complicated. But you’ll work it out.”

Xander had no idea what the guy was on about, but he nodded sagely.

“And our little cowboy? His anger is understandable. Believe me. But Angel-cake was right in what he asked me to do.”

“What? I don’t—“

Lorne frowned. “I did it, honey. I pulled the trigger on Lindsey. It still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It’s why…why I had to stay away from Angel all these years. And your little sugar pie, too. But it was still the right thing to do.”

Xander was too astonished to respond properly, and besides, his brain was running on fumes. So he simply smiled and thanked Lorne again.

Lorne patted him again. “You two take care of each other, you hear? You need each other.” The demon stepped out into the dusk and was gone.

 

[Chapter Nine](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/54059.html)


	9. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (9/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 9/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/0002a362/)  
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**  
Chapter Nine**

 

“Can’t this heap go any faster?”

Xander thought sourly that maybe it would be better if Spike hadn’t _quite_ healed enough to backseat drive. But he knew the vampire was anxious, so he only smiled stiffly and said, “Doing the best I can here. Less than an hour, okay?”

Spike nodded sulkily.

Xander had helped Spike pour pint after pint down his throat, and as a result, they’d needed to spend only two days in Vegas before Spike felt up to the rest of the trip. If it weren’t for the knowledge that Angel might be badly in need of help, it wouldn’t have been so terrible at all. No Cirque or Texas Hold ‘Em, but Xander caught up on his sleep, at least. In fact, they both spent almost the entire time in bed, huddled up against each other. Spike was getting to be like a drug to Xander, a drug he desperately craved. It wasn’t even the sex, because that had happened only a few times. It was the contact, the companionship. He was dreading having to go cold turkey.

Spike fidgeted and grumbled and rolled his eyes, but Xander was already pushing 90 and didn’t want to get pulled over. So he tried to distract Spike instead. “So, you have a plan? Or do we just drive around LA looking for vamps to rescue?”

Spike huffed out a breath. “We’ll go home first.”

“Home?”

“Hyperion. Peaches owns it. Big old heap.”

“Okay. And then?”

“Dunno. Have a look about. See if we can learn anything.”

“And if we can’t?”

“We’ll just ask around then, won’t we? Somebody will know something. I have contacts in LA.”

Xander would have felt comfortable with a little more of a strategy. But then plotting had never been his strongpoint, or Spike’s either. Spike was pretty much a rush into things kinda guy, and Xander was mostly get dragged into things and hope he didn’t die.

Spike tapped his fingers on the dashboard and jiggled his knees and chewed at his lower lip. He fiddled with the radio and rolled his window up and down. He toyed with his seatbelt. He drove Xander nuts.

Again trying for diversion, Xander asked, “Why are you so anxious to rescue Angel anyway? I thought you two hated each other.”

“Not hate. More can’t stand one another.”

“And yet here you are.”

“It’s…it’s family, innit? Even when the buggers drive you mad, you still care about them. I expect you care for those tossers, your mum and dad, yeah?”

“They’re dead.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Xander saw Spike turn to look at him. “Sorry. Didn’t know.”

“How could you? It’s been a long time anyway. They got in a car wreck near Denver, about six months after Sunnyhell imploded. Tony was driving drunk again.” At the time he’d felt a some sadness, some regret for what could have been. Now he felt nothing.

“Sorry,” Spike repeated. “You deserved better.”

“Thanks. You don’t get to choose your relatives, do you?”

Spike snorted. “Look at mine. Peaches and Dru were the best of that lot.”

“Yeah, I remember the Master.” Xander shuddered. “Still, I’m surprised you and Angel have managed to not stake each other, all these years.” He suddenly remembered what Spike had said about him and Angelus. “I mean, stake as in the pointy wooden thing, not….”

Spike looked at him with amusement. “We’ve had a few brawls, the pouf and I, but nothing fatal. Or naked. It’s a big hotel; we don’t spend that much time together.”

“What do you do, then? When you’re not fighting evil, I mean.”

Spike shrugged. “He broods. Reads depressing rot in French. I drink, play Nintendo, watch footy. ‘S not a bad existence.”

“You haven’t minded sticking around LA?”

“I’ve wandered a lot. Staying put a while’s not so bad. Those Watchers have you racking up frequent flyer miles, yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have to go if I don’t want to. But seeing the world is interesting. I’d only been to Colorado, before.”

“And there’s nothing to keep you any one place.”

“No, I guess not. The girls have their own lives, you know?”

They were both silent for a long time after that. Soon, though, they descended into LA, and Spike directed them to the Hyperion. It was, as Spike had said, a big chunk of real estate, in a decidedly iffy neighborhood. Xander parked right in front and they walked to the door. Spike opened it, but when Xander went to step in, he bounced off an invisible barrier. Spike laughed.

“Now you know how vamps feel. We had the place warded. Can’t get in without an invite.” Xander raised his eyebrows and Spike laughed again. “Xander Harris, please come in,” Spike said with a little bow and sweep of his arm.

The lobby was big and mostly empty. There was a curved reception desk and a few plush seats, including a rounded one in the center of the space. Several overhead chandeliers cast a yellowish glow over the space. As Xander turned slowly, taking it in, Spike inhaled deeply several times.

“He hasn’t been here recently,” he announced.

“How can you tell?”

“The scent is old. Over a week at least.”

“So you’re sort of like a bloodhound?”

Spike shot him an irritated glance.

“Can you smell anyone else?” Xander asked.

“Loads of other people, but none lately. Not McDonald. Let’s have a poke about, yeah?”

Xander followed Spike into a small office behind the desk. It contained a big desk and a few chairs, and three shelves full of books. Five or six books and an empty highball glass were scattered across the polished wood of the desk. There was a half-full bottle of whiskey, too, and Spike grabbed it, undid the top, and took a big swig. Then he held it out to Xander, who shook his head. He wanted to keep his brain clear for now.

Spike moved things around for a while, while Xander stood there uselessly. But apparently Spike found nothing helpful, because he sighed and walked to the door. “Let’s try upstairs.”

On the third floor, Spike ushered Xander into a suite. Xander knew right away it had to be Angel’s. Everything was in muted colors, and there was an oversized armchair flanked by a two small tables. One table held a small stack of paperbacks, and the other a sketchpad and a few charcoal pencils. More out of curiosity than hope of finding anything useful, Xander wandered into the bedroom and opened the closet. There was nothing there but dark clothes: slacks, shirts, a long coat, even a few suits. And several pairs of shoes beneath. The bathroom wasn’t very enlightening either. It was neat as a pin, with a small shelf full of hair gels. There was no mirror.

Back in the sitting area, Spike was humming with frustration. It looked like Angel had just stepped out for an evening stroll. “Had a look in the fridge as well,” Spike said, pointed at the small appliance in the corner. “Few pints of pigs’ blood in there, but they’ve gone off.”

“Do you need to find some for you? Because the cooler’s empty, isn’t it?”

“I’ll get some tomorrow. Meantime, I have some stashed in the freezer in my room. That’ll tide me over.”

After a little more fruitless searching, they left Angel’s rooms. Xander trailed behind Spike as he went up another flight of stairs and down a long corridor. He opened another room, and the odors of cigarettes and whiskey and leather informed Xander that it must be Spike’s.

Spike had only a single room, with a double bed against one wall, and a brown loveseat alongside. A big flat panel television hung on the wall, and underneath was a cabinet containing a Wii and some games in their cases. There was a tall dresser, fairly beat-up, with a microwave on top, and a stainless-steel fridge that looked strangely out of place. Xander could tell Spike had made efforts to make the space homey: there were rugs on the floor, a soft blanket on the loveseat, and some drawings of Drusilla and Buffy tacked to the cream-colored walls.

“Hey!” Xander exclaimed, noticing another sketch, this one of the whole Scooby gang, including him. Back when he had binocular vision.

“Peaches did the scribbling,” Spike said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“It’s nice.”

Heavy draperies covered the window and Xander peeked outside. The view was of a courtyard that looked somewhat overgrown. He let the curtain fall back into place.

He turned back to Spike, intending to ask him what next, but he fell silent when he saw the vampire. Spike’s shoulders were hunched, his hands limp at his sides. His head hung low and his eyes were shut. Xander walked over and drew Spike against him. At first Spike was stiff, but then he yielded, contouring his body against Xander’s and resting his head on Xander’s shoulder.

“We’ll think of something,” Xander murmured. “You’re beat. Let’s get some rest and then deal with it, okay?”

Spike nodded slowly. Xander helped him off with his duster and t-shirt. Spike stood there, unresisting and defeated-looking. So Xander led him to the bed, where he pushed him down gently. He unlaced Spike’s boots and pulled them off, then unfastened his jeans. Spike raised his hips a little so Xander could take the pants off, too. When Spike was completely bare, Xander helped him into bed, noting as he did that the wounds were healing nicely, most of them just red raised lines now. He tucked Spike into the crisp white sheets.

“I’m gonna go get the suitcase, okay?”

“Fine,” Spike replied without interest.

“Um…where do you want me to sleep?”

Without looking at him, Spike said, “There’s a hundred bloody rooms. Take your pick.”

“Oh. Okay,” replied Xander, his stomach plummeting. He walked toward the door.

His hand was on the knob when Spike said, “Wait!”

Xander turned around.

“Sleep here. Please.”

And Xander’s mood did a complete 180. “Sure,” he said, hiding a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

On the way downstairs he dialed London, Willow this time.

“Xan! Where are you?”

“LA. Angel’s place.”

“And you’re okay? Giles told us about the werewolf, and—it wasn’t Oz, was it?”

“No. Definitely not Oz.”

“Good. Spike’s back in one piece?”

“More or less. But there’s no sign of Angel here. Hey, could you do a locator spell?”

“No, sorry. Won’t work on the undead. And this McDonald guy, he’s sort of undead, too, isn’t he?”

Xander opened the front door and walked into the balmy night air. “I don’t know. I guess so. I mean, he was dead. I don’t know what he is now.”

“What will you do, Xan?”

“No idea. For now I’m gonna crash. Maybe we’ll come up with something tomorrow.” He opened the van and removed the suitcase. He left the cooler inside; they didn’t need it now anyway. “So how’s the new mommy doing?”

Willow giggled. “Honestly? I think she’s scared to death. But she’s doing fine. You should see Giles holding Em! It’s so sweet.”

Xander smiled at the mental image of that and re-entered the building, belatedly relieved that the ward seemed to know him now.

“I’m gonna go now, Will.”

“Keep in touch, mister.”

“Will do.” He hung up, noting happily that for once, he hadn’t been warned to be careful.

By the time he got back to the room, Spike was asleep. Xander set the luggage down and stripped, then climbed in next to his vampire. Without really waking up, Spike immediately plastered himself to Xander’s side, his hair tickling Xander’s shoulder. Xander wondered how many more nights he’d get to sleep like this.

 

“I hate to ask this. But is it possible McDonald just dusted him?”

Spike threw back his shot of Jack and then shook his head. “Nah. That’d be too easy. He’ll want to play, I reckon.”

Xander’s empty glass joined Spike’s on the table, and Xander rubbed at his chin, thinking. “Okay. So he needs a place where he can keep a vamp captive. And a source for blood, too, right?”

“Yeah, if he wants to keep Angel interesting.”

“So that means, what? Butchers, blood banks, hospitals?”

“Demon bars as well. And I know a few other sources.”

The bartender came by and, with a nod from Spike, refilled their glasses. Xander was on his way to getting fairly sloshed. That was the problem with hanging out in bars, looking for some sign of their quarry. But Spike was driving anyway, so what the hell. This was their third bar tonight, and it was a dive, with creatures of all descriptions skulking in the dark corners, and the floor sticky with substances Xander would prefer not to identify. Fortunately, most of the demonic denizens of LA seemed to recognize Spike, and they gave both of them a wide berth. But nobody had seen any sign of Angel for at least a couple of weeks, and they all claimed ignorance when Xander and Spike described McDonald.

Spike and Xander had begun by checking out Wolfram and Hart’s old headquarters. But it was gone, reduced to rubble after the battle, then the remainder had been razed. Now there was a Starbucks there and a fitness center and a Quiznos and a tanning place. No sign of anything more evil than a venti caramel frappuccino. So now they were hitting demon bars, had been doing so for several days, but with no more luck.

“We could also try…. McDonald’s gonna need supplies if he wants to torture Angel, right? So where would he get stuff like that?”

Spike shrugged. “Depends on his tastes. Hardware stores. Bondage shops. If you’re creative enough, you can use nearly anything. One time in Berlin, Angelus—“

“Am I really gonna want to hear this story, Spike?”

Spike sighed. “No. Not especially.”

They both downed another shot. Xander tossed some bills on the bar and then stood, only a little wobbly. Spike stood, too, and they walked out of the bar and toward the van. As he slid into the passenger seat, Xander concluded that the only way they were ever going to find Angel was through a huge stroke of good luck. He watched the city go by his window, mostly dark this time of night, with brief flashes of color and light.

Back at the Hyperion, Spike was morose and discouraged. He flipped listlessly through channels on the television, while Xander sat next to him, watching the vampire’s face instead of the screen.

“What can I do?” Xander asked at last, desperate to wipe that look of distress off of Spike.

“You’re doing enough, love,” Spike said, and leaned his head wearily on Xander’s shoulder.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“You’re here. That’s plenty now. I need you. Couldn’t carry on without you.”

A thrill went through Xander at these words. He was rarely needed. Used, sure, helpful, occasionally, but not necessary. He bent his head and kissed Spike’s scalp, smiling at the feel of Spike’s ungelled hair.

Spike responded by tossing the remote onto the floor and climbing into Xander’s lap. He wrapped one arm around Xander’s shoulders and pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For staying. For…treating me like a person. For being funny and brave and stubborn.”

“What mood is this, Spike?”

Spike smiled. “Appreciative. And sod the spell, I do appreciate you.” And he kissed Xander, a soft, tender touching of lips that soon became more heated, until Xander’s breath was coming in pants and his face felt flushed with passion.

They pulled slightly apart, and in a flurry of unbuttoning and tugging, managed to get each other completely naked. Xander loved the feel of Spike’s cool, hard muscles against him. Spike dragged Xander to the bed and pushed him back on it, then collapsed on top of him.

They couldn’t stay still. Spike’s mouth was everywhere: on Xander’s cheeks and brow and earlobes and neck and shoulder and sternum and nipples. Meanwhile, Spike’s lower body was wriggling and writhing against Xander’s, and Xander felt the damp hardness of Spike’s cock and the tickling softness of his nest of curls and the solid weight of his balls, all rubbing against him in an entirely agreeable way. Xander’s hands roamed over Spike’s shoulders and back and ass, stopping now and then to stroke or squeeze or lightly pinch. Spike was making noises. Low moans and hisses and growls that reminded Xander that this was a vampire atop him, and made Xander’s head swim with desire.

Xander knew what he wanted.

He pushed at Spike’s shoulders until they were eye to eyes, and said, “Wanna really show me how much you appreciate me?”

“Yeah,” Spike panted.

“Fuck me. Fuck me and bite me, Spike.”

Spike’s eyes blew wide open and his irises sparkled from blue to yellow. He swallowed. “You’re sure?” he rasped.

“Oh, yeah.”

Spike flew off of Xander and, almost before Xander could blink, flew back again, now clutching a bottle of lube. Then he knelt on the floor between Xander legs and, very cautiously, caressed the sensitive skin of Xander’s perineum. Xander had expected he’d be nervous about this. He and Anya had played around with toys—his girl was nothing if not adventurous and she practically wore out her copy of _Bend__ Over, Boyfriend_—but Spike was about to go where no man had gone before. As Spike slid a single slick finger inside Xander, though, his other hand gently massaging Xander’s balls, what Xander mostly felt was the wish that Spike would hurry along with it, damnit.

Spike didn’t hurry. He took his own sweet, evil time, blowing on Xander’s overheated flesh and thrusting into him with his slender digits and, occasionally, rubbing a fingertip just so, so that Xander was biting his tongue to keep from begging or crying, or maybe both.

A decade or so later, Spike stood. “How d’you want me, pet?” he purred.

Xander attempted to get a few brain cells operational. He rolled to his knees and elbows, his feet hanging over the edge of the bed, and looked back over his shoulder at Spike. Spike groaned loudly and shut his eyes. “Fangs, please,” Xander said.

“Fuck,” muttered Spike, and his face shifted. He was still beautiful, Xander thought. He had a moment to consider how preposterous his current position would have seemed to his teenaged self, and then Spike was lining his cock up against Xander’s hole and, exquisitely slowly, pressing inside. One of Spike’s hands was on Xander’s lower back, smoothing at it as if to calm a nervous animal.

It hurt, just a little, but Xander so didn’t care. He wiggled his hips impatiently and Spike laughed and pushed deeper until he was fully inside. He draped himself over Xander’s back. “Your heart’s beating about a thousand beats a minute, love,” he said, his voice slightly sibilant over his teeth. He ran his hands up and down Xander’s sides. “You still want this?”

Xander grabbed one of Spike’s hands and touched it to his own cock, which was slick with precome and pulsing with need. “I’m about ready to bite you myself, Spike. Please!”

Spike chuckled, low and dirty, and it occurred to Xander that he could possibly come just from hearing Spike’s sexy noises. But that line of thought was rendered moot as Spike began to thrust in and out, long, slow strokes that sent shudders of pleasure down Xander’s spine. Spike was still holding Xander’s cock, too, fisting it in tandem with the movement of his hips. “God,” he gasped. “So tight, so hot, fuck, Xander, so hot for me.”

“Gah,” replied Xander, all power of speech having escaped him.

Spike moved a little faster, snapping his pelvis against Xander, jacking him with his left hand and stroking Xander’s ass with the right. Xander felt his balls drawing up. “Bite!” he managed to choke out.

Continuing to piston his hips, Spike placed his right hand on Xander’s forehead and applied pressure until Xander’s head was drawn up and back, his neck stretched and bent. Spike sank his fangs deeply into Xander’s throat.

One of them howled. Xander had no idea which. He couldn’t tell where his body ended and Spike’s began, or which way was up. He couldn’t have remembered his name right now if somebody put a gun to his head. It was all about feeling: Spike inside him, on top of him, around him. An electric current ran through every vein and nerve in his body and he thrashed and came and came and came….

It must have been only a couple minutes later that he regained awareness. Spike still covered him, still penetrated him, but now their bodies were unmoving and Spike was licking delicately at the small wounds on Xander’s throat.

“Okay, pet?” Spike asked, sounding a little worried.

“Angh,” Xander replied.

“Gonna have to repeat that in English if you want me to believe you.”

“Good. Dandy.”

Spike kissed his cheek and then pulled away. Only for a moment, though, because then he wrestled Xander around until Xander’s head was on a pillow and his body under the sheets. Spike crawled in beside him, clutching him tightly. “Was…was that okay?” Xander asked, suddenly struck by insecurity.

“It was brilliant, love. Remind me to appreciate you more often.”

Xander was sticky from his fluids and Spike’s, but he was too goddamn drained to do anything about it right now. A shower could wait until morning. For now, he snuggled against his vampire and wallowed in bliss.

[Chapter Ten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/54384.html)


	10. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Hard-Bitten (10/11)**_  
**  
Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 10/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00022wsf/)  
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**  
Chapter Ten**

 

Xander thought to himself, for maybe the twentieth time in five minutes, that this was a bad idea. But he couldn’t think of a better one, so he squirmed in the slippery vinyl booth and sipped at his beer, and tried not to be too obvious in the way he watched the vampire at the bar.

They’d spent a few more days unsuccessfully trawling bars, not finding any sign of either Angel or McDonald. And then, at a place called Nicky’s West, kind of a hip bar for a demon joint, the bartender had gestured to them. They’d moved to the end of the bar, perhaps away from prying ears, and the guy, who was about seven feet tall and whip thin, with odd pinkish eyes, leaned down until his face was inches from theirs.

“I think I know this man you’re looking for,” he whispered. Xander felt Spike tense beside him. “I’m only telling you this because you and Angel took care of that Bzriknank problem I was having last year. The dude comes in every few days, has a Coors or two, and then leaves with a dozen pints of blood. I been wondering what a human wants with the stuff, but I ain’t inclined to ask questions. He hasn’t caused any trouble, but there’s something creepy about him, you know?”

“Thanks, mate. How long since he’s been in last?”

The bartender furrowed his brows. “Hmm. Not sure. Maybe two or three days.”

“So he’s due back soon?”

“Yeah, probably.”

Spike nodded. “You won’t tell him we’re looking for him, yeah?”

“No.”

Spike nodded again, and he and Xander moved outside to confer. They walked around the corner to the alley, Spike leaning against the brick wall, Xander sitting on a plastic crate.

“Got an idea,” Spike announced.

“Yeah?”

“The cowboy will recognize me, but I reckon he won’t know anything about you.”

“So?”

“So I’m gonna sit inside Nicky’s, alone, and wait for him to show up. He won’t be too pleased to see me.”

“And me?”

“You sit across the room. Pretend we’re not together. Just watch. I’m gonna try and get him to take me to Angel, and you can tag along without him knowing.”

“Why can’t we both just hide, and then follow him when he leaves?”

“Couple reasons. He might not go straight to Angel, and if he sees us, we’re buggered. Or even if he does go to Angel, if it’s a house, I’m not gonna be able to get in without his invite.”

“Fuck.”

“Downside to being a vamp, pet.”

“But he could hurt you! He already tried to get you dusted. And if he had some way to take Angel down, he could do the same to you.”

“You’ll have to be my back-up. Take your magic pill and he won’t even know you’re there.”

Xander fondled the plastic box in his pocket. He’d been carrying it everywhere, just in case. His knife was there, too. He’d bought a shoulder harness the other day, and wore it over his t-shirt and under a button-down, so that it was more or less inconspicuous. Spike had asked him to carry the salve as well.

“All right,” he sighed. “But don’t get yourself killed.”

Spike crouched down and gave him a thorough kiss. “Don’t plan to, love,” he said afterwards.

They went back in the bar and Spike sat in one place and Xander in another, but McDonald never showed. Ditto the next night. So here they were again, and Xander was hating McDonald more and more as every minute passed.

Tonight Spike was wearing the knife. Xander could always call it to himself if he needed it, but he wouldn’t be able to carry it if he wanted to be invisible. Spike had the salve in his duster, too.

A silvery, metallic demon of a type Xander didn’t recognize approached his table. It had lidless eyes with horizontal pupils and two thin slits instead of a nose. “Hey,” it said, its voice high-pitched and squeaky. “Want some company?”

Xander suppressed a shudder. “No, thanks.” He looked around nervously, as if he thought someone might be spying on him. “My Master doesn’t like me talking to anyone else. Sorry.” It was a trick he’d used a few times before, and it worked. The demon smiled crookedly and walked away. Xander took another sip of beer.

The door opened, letting in noise from the street. A man entered, alone. Short and muscular, wearing blue jeans and a blue and white striped shirt. Cowboy boots, too. He didn’t see Spike at first; the vampire was sitting too far back in the gloom. But when the man came a few steps farther in, he halted in his tracks.

Spike slowly turned his head to the side and looked at McDonald and smiled, a thin, predatory grin that reminded Xander of a skull. “Lindsey,” he drawled.

“What—what are you doin’ here?” the man replied, looking as if he was trying to decide whether to run or piss himself.

Spike pointed at his glass. “Jus’ havin’ a drink.” Xander knew he was nowhere near drunk, but Spike was deliberately slurring his words, making his movements appear over-careful.

McDonald stood there a moment longer and then slowly approached Spike. He sat on the stool next to him. Xander couldn’t hear their conversation; he was too far away. But he saw them talk awhile, and then McDonald started moving his arms around, gesturing widely as if he was trying to convince Spike of something. Spike shook his head a few times, and McDonald continued. Finally, Spike hunched over the bar, seemingly lost in thought, while the man waited. Then Spike nodded and scooted off the stool, stumbling slightly when his feet touched the floor. McDonald put an arm around him, presumably to help him balance. Xander instantly seethed with jealousy, but remained where he was. McDonald looked around quickly, furtively, as if making sure nobody was paying too much attention. Xander ducked his head, but he could see out of the corner of his eye as Spike was led to the door.

A moment after they left, Xander hurried after them. He peeked outside and, to his relief, it appeared that they were going to proceed on foot. Spike was lurching and staggering, and McDonald had Spike’s elbow clutched in his hand and was steering him down the sidewalk.

Xander ducked into the alley, pulled the plastic box from his pocket, and removed the pill. With a grimace at its size, he dry-swallowed it. It was bitter. Mere seconds later, there was a funny lurching feeling in his gut. When he looked down at his hands, there was nothing there. He sleeves ended on emptiness.

He kicked off his shoes and then tore his clothes off. He was about to come out of the alley when he remembered the patch. With a quiet oath, he ripped that off, too, throwing it on top of the pile of fabric at his feet. Moving as quietly as possible, he followed Spike and McDonald down the street.

It felt very weird to be naked in the middle of Los Angeles. Kind of…liberating in a way, but weird. He fervently hoped Vega had been truthful when he said the pill would last four hours. He wondered what it would be like to have sex while he was invisible, but then he remembered that time with Spike and Buffy, and that was really not a memory he wanted to dwell on. Ugh.

Xander kept about a block behind the others, not wanting McDonald to hear the patter of his bare feet on the pavement. They were making slow progress, and Spike weaved and lurched erratically. Xander focused on the hand that was touching his vampire, and wished he could chop it right off.

They proceeded for half a dozen blocks. The neighborhood grew pretty dodgy. Lots of boarded up buildings with trash collected around their fronts and graffiti on their walls. A broken shopping cart here and there. An empty lot surrounded by wilted chain-link fencing. Then they turned down a small side street. The street lamps had all burned out or been broken, and it was dark, but Xander was able to follow Spike’s hair as it gleamed in the starlight.

Lindsey took Spike to a two-story house. It was large and square, the windows covered with plywood. Xander could see the cracks and crumbles in the stucco siding from a block away. A battered old pickup truck was parked out front, and there was no other sign of life on the entire street. Again glancing around himself first, McDonald unlocked the front door, and ushered Spike in. Then the door closed behind them.

Xander took a deep breath and approached the house. He waited a few minutes, pacing anxiously. Spike had told him to do so if they got this far, to give McDonald time to lead him to wherever Angel was. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, Xander walked up the broken front steps and tried the knob. Locked, of course.

Wading through waist-high weeds, and wincing when he stepped on debris, Xander made his way around the building. A side door was completely boarded over, and the back door was locked as well. But there was a window beside it, and it had been left open a little. Xander removed the torn screen as quietly as possible and pushed the window open. Then he clambered inside.

He was in a kitchen. A single light was on, a tiny bulb over the stove. He saw peeling linoleum, scuffed and dented walls, warped cabinets with the varnish worn away. A few dishes were stacked near the sink, which dripped, and an old fridge hummed quietly to itself in one corner. There was a square table and three chairs in the center of the room. A closed door was off to Xander’s right, and to his left was an arched doorway.

Xander couldn’t hear anybody. He tiptoed through the arch and found himself in an empty space that was probably once a dining room. A built-in hutch was missing most of the glass from its doors, and some of the shelves were knocked askew. He walked through that room, under another archway, and was in a large living room. There were a few scattered pieces of furniture here, and he couldn’t make out the details in the dark, but they mostly looked like Goodwill rejects. He opened two narrow doors. One led to a closet, empty except for a cardboard box, and the second was a bathroom with a toilet and a chipped sink.

Just across from the front door was a stairway. Xander crept up it, freezing when a floorboard creaked, but there didn’t seem to be any response. The second floor held a series of bedrooms, mostly empty except for a few pieces of broken furniture and other debris. One of them looked lived-in, though. A mattress on the floor was covered in a small heap of bedding. A guitar leaned in the corner. There was a small dresser with one missing drawer and a stack of books on top of it. There were two more bathrooms upstairs, but that was it. McDonald and Spike weren’t there.

Xander went back downstairs, this time avoiding the noisy one. He walked into the kitchen and considered the closed door. A calendar hung crookedly on it. It had a picture of a snow-capped mountain, and it was dated 1996. Xander slowly turned the knob, and the door swung open to reveal another stairway, this time to the basement. Of course. Where else would you keep a vampire?

These stairs did a 90 degree turn, ending in a small space with a bare bulb overhead. A heavy metal door was in front of him. Silently praying that it was unlocked, Xander tried the knob. He nearly collapsed with relief when it turned, too. He opened this door only barely enough to slip inside, and then closed it. He had to smother a gasp at what he saw.

It was a large space, clearly taking up the entire underside of the house. The floors were gray cement, the walls and ceiling lined with something dark and thick. Soundproofing, he’d guess. Two fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling. In the corner was a large, heavy cage, maybe eight feet square. There was a metal table inside, and, bound to the table with thick steel chains, was a bare, bloody body. Xander couldn’t see the face from his angle, but he could see that the person was male, and had probably once been large and powerful, but was now nearly skeletal. His torso and genitals and legs were covered in burns and deep holes. He was struggling feebly against his fetters, making muffled noises that told Xander he must be gagged.

But Xander didn’t have time to focus on him. Because just outside the cage, Lindsey was standing with a sharpened stake in his hand. And Spike was hanging from a ceiling beam by his wrists. His clothes had been stripped off him and lay in a heap nearby. The knife was there, too, still in its holster. Spike’s legs were spread and shackled to the floor and his chin was on his chest, as if he were unconscious.

Xander stifled the urge to attack McDonald. He had no idea what defenses the guy might have, and he wasn’t going to do any good if he was dead.

“Wake up, little vampire,” McDonald sang, poking the end of the wood into Spike’s belly hard enough to draw a bead of blood. Spike grunted and stirred. “C’mon,” said McDonald. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on all the fun, now.” He poked again and Spike lifted his head and squinted blearily at him.

“Whadja do?” slurred Spike.

“You like that? Just a little trick I picked up along the way. I say a couple words and demons go out like a light. Worked on Angelpie, too.” He gestured towards the body in the cage.

“Bastard,” snarled Spike.

“Nah. My Daddy was legally married to my Ma when I was born.”

Spike glared at him and pulled at the chains.

“Nope. Those are vamp-proofed. Ask Angel. Well, I guess he can’t answer you right now, can he? Now, here’s the thing. Do I dust you right away, or should I show you my toys first?” He waved his hands around, and Xander saw that the floor was littered with all sorts of paraphernalia perfect for torturing vampires: crosses and whips and heavy metal rods, and something that Xander recognized with a shiver as a blowtorch.

“How’d you slink your way out of hell this time, Lindsey?”

“Hopin’ for some tips for when it’s your turn? The firm called me back. Had some jobs that needed doin’ in Europe. But I slipped their leash. They probably ain’t even figured out yet that I’m gone.”

“I’d have thought you’d find something better to do with your free time than come back here, then.”

“There ain’t no place I’d rather be, man.” McDonald jabbed the stake viciously into Spike’s groin. Spike yelped and tried to jerk away, and McDonald laughed.

A muffled noise of anger escaped Xander’s mouth, and McDonald whipped around. “What the fuck’s that?” he shouted. Xander was very still.

“Oi! Wanker! Whatever happened to your bird? She was a tasty little bite, wasn’t she?”

McDonald turned back to Spike and socked him hard in the face. Blood burst from Spike’s nose, but he still managed a sneer. “Still have a soft spot for her, yeah? Did Peaches ever tell you he shagged her? Would have liked a bit of that myself.”

McDonald hit him again, this time connecting with his jaw. “Shut the fuck up, you undead prick!”

Spike spat out a mouthful of blood. “Which of them are you jealous of? ‘Cause I know bloody well how badly you wanted the pouf. Could smell it on you, you know.”

McDonald cocked his hand back, as if to hit again, but then lowered it. “Nice, Spike. Subtle. But not quite enough.”

On the last word he suddenly whirled around and hit Xander in a flying tackle, sending them both falling to the ground. Xander had one advantage, in that McDonald couldn’t see him. But the other man was much stronger than a normal human, and he was armed with that stake, which he stabbed into Xander’s right shoulder. Xander howled in pain and tried to swing at McDonald’s Adam’s apple with his left hand, but the blow didn’t have enough power to do much harm.

“What the fuck are you?” Lindsay said, yanking the stake back out again. It hurt even more coming out than going in.

“Kisu!” Xander shouted, just as McDonald slammed the stake into his stomach and Spike roared in the background. McDonald jerked the sharpened wood out of him. As Xander screamed and tried not to black out, he felt the knife settle in his hand.

“What the—“ McDonald dropped the stake and grabbed for the blade while Xander tried to stab him with it. But Xander’s arm was weak from the wound, and all he managed was a shallow slice on the man’s chest. McDonald wrapped a hand around Xander’s invisible wrist, pinning his hand to the ground, and tried to pry the knife out of his fingers. Over his opponent’s shoulder, Xander could see that Spike had vamped out and was struggling fiercely with his chains. Xander brought his knee up and McDonald grunted in pain as the hard bone connected with his balls. But he didn’t loosen his grip on Xander, and didn’t stop trying to get the knife away.

“Xander!” Spike shouted, but Xander was too busy struggling with McDonald to answer. He clawed at McDonald’s face, leaving long bloody furrows down his cheeks, but the fucker just swore and held on. McDonald punched Xander in the shoulder, very close to where the stake went in. Xander’s vision grayed for a moment, and in that moment the other man wrenched the knife away from him.

Xander reached for the knife just as McDonald brought it down. The blade pierced Xander’s palm and Xander screeched and yanked his hand back, pulling the slippery handle out of McDonald’s grip. Frantically, Xander brought his hands together, trying to remove the weapon from his flesh so he could use it, but he was weak and dizzy and McDonald was banging blindly away at him with his fists.

This was it. Xander was going to die, and then there would be nobody to rescue Spike or Angel.

But just then, there was a huge bellow, and a crash. It was hard for Xander to see well—McDonald’s blood and his own sweat were dripping into his eye. But suddenly a vampire appeared over McDonald’s shoulder, its face twisted with fury. It wrapped a chain around McDonald’s neck and jerked, and the man was hauled off of Xander, scrabbling frenziedly at his own neck.

Xander took a deep breath and pulled the knife out of himself, but he couldn’t hold it at all in his injured hand, and was forced to use his left instead. He struggled to his knees in time to see McDonald kick spastically a few times and then pass out.

Spike looked in his direction, his eyes still yellow and wild. “Xan? Xan? How bad are you injured?”

“I’m not sure,” Xander wheezed. “Can’t see myself, either. It hurts. Are you okay?”

“’M fine. Fuck. Just a mo’.” Spike removed the chain from McDonald’s neck, and then used a long leather flogger to hogtie him. As soon as the man was securely bound, Spike approached Xander, his eyes on the knife, his hands held in front of him. He touched Xander’s head and knelt beside him.

“What’s hurt?”

Xander laughed a little hysterically. “He staked me! Not in the heart, though. The stomach.”

“Bugger, bugger, bugger. Can you undo the spell?”

“Don’t know how.”

“Can’t take you to hospital like this.” Spike was patting at Xander, trying to assess the location and severity of his wounds. Xander felt woozy, and he swayed in Spike’s grip.

“Xan? Don’t pass out on me. Need you awake.”

“’Kay.”

Spike found Xander’s shoulders and guided him until he was lying flat on his back. “Hold onto that blade,” he ordered. Then he scurried over to the pile of his clothing, and picked up the duster. He draped it over Xander, which at least allowed him to see where Xander was. He was still trailing chains from his wrists and ankles, Xander saw. He must have managed to pull them right out of their tethers.

“Spike?” Xander said. His voice sounded hollow in his own ears.

Spike’s hand found Xander’s face, and he stroked at his cheek. “Right here, pet. Gonna find the keys and get us the hell out of here. Patch you up properly. You’ll be fine.” His voice lacked conviction.

“Spike, need you to know….” Every word was an effort, but he had to get this out. “I think…I was falling in love with you. Isn’t that funny?”

Spike wasn’t laughing. His face was human now, and tight with fear and anguish. “Xander! Don’t you dare say something like that to me and then leave me!”

“Don’ wanna go…don’…Spike….”

[Chapter Eleven](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/54648.html)


	11. Hard-Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next._

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[hard-bitten](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/hard-bitten), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/xander)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **Hard-Bitten (11/11)** _

**Title:** Hard-Bitten   
**Chapter:** 11/11   
**Pairing:** Spike/Xander   
**Rating:** NC-17   
**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joss   
**Warnings:** m/m, some violence and angst, and, well, biting   
**Author's Note:** This is for [](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/profile)[**xmas_n_july**](http://community.livejournal.com/xmas_n_july/). The fic is complete and I'll post daily. Thank you to [](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/profile)[**lil_coyote**](http://lil-coyote.livejournal.com/)and [](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/profile)[**faketoysoldier**](http://faketoysoldier.livejournal.com/)for the perfect banners. And thank you to [](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/profile)[**whyskeyeyes**](http://whyskeyeyes.livejournal.com/)for the awesome prompt which was: _It's post Buffy, Post Angel. Xander stops at the entrance to a sewer tunnel and sees Spike huddled against a wall.(He's been searching for him) He approaches him. As Xander touches Spike, Spike slams him to the ground and bites him ..... you take it from there... why is he there and what happens next.   
_As always, I adore feedback!

[Previous chapters here](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=whichclothes&keyword=Hard-Bitten&filter=all)

**Thank you for reading, and for all the comments!! I hope you enjoyed.   
**

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/whichclothes/pic/00029s7b/)  
---  
  
**  
Chapter Eleven**

 

He woke up.

That was a surprise. It wasn’t the first time he’d been amazed to wake up and discover he wasn’t dead, but it was still a pretty major shocker. And as surprises went, it was a pretty pleasant one, too, pleasant enough that he didn’t even mind the ache in his belly and shoulder and hand. And, now that he thought about it, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as he might have expected.

Cautiously, he peeled his eyelid open.

He was in Spike’s room in the Hyperion. Spike was propped next to him in the bed, running his fingers through Xander’s hair. It felt nice.

Angel was sitting in a chair next to the bed, frowning at him. He looked awful, thin and bruised, but he had clothes on, at least, and he was clutching a glass of red liquid in his hand.

“You back with us, love?” came the familiar, deep voice.

“Yeah.” His throat was dry and scratchy. Maybe Spike knew that, because a moment later he was propping Xander’s shoulders up a little and holding a glass of water to Xander’s lips. Xander drank it gratefully. He looked down at his hands. One of them was wrapped in bandages, but he was no longer the invisible man.

“Where…how….?”

“Sshh. We’re all safe now. Rest and I’ll explain later.”

“McDonald?”

Spike kissed the top of Xander’s head. “Won’t be giving us any trouble, I promise.”

Xander wanted to ask more, he really did. But he was suddenly too tired to speak, too tired to keep his eye open. So he slipped off to sleep. The last thing he was conscious of was Spike’s touch.

 

Xander wasn’t sure how good a nurse Spike would have made under ordinary circumstances. Maybe he’d have been okay. He took care of Drusilla, anyway. But now, under the continuing influence of the csípés spell, he took nurturing to new levels. He fluffed pillows and tucked blankets, he changed bandages, he engaged in sponge baths that Xander found more interesting than was good for a man in his condition. He produced endless cups of juice, complete with bendy straws, and he spooned soup and cereal and ice cream into Xander’s mouth, even though Xander had one fully operational hand. Spike wielded a bedpan without even grimacing. He shooed Angel away when he came in to stare at Xander, and he deflected all of Xander’s questions until later. He answered Xander’s phone, too, barking irritably at whomever was at the other end, telling them that Xander would call back when he was able.

In all the many times he had been sick or injured, nobody had ever fussed over Xander like this. It was wonderful.

Still, he healed amazingly quickly, and he was soon anxious to get on his feet again. He had so many questions that needed answering, too. And then there was that declaration of love he’d made, which neither he nor Spike had mentioned, but which hung in the room like a giant, frilly balloon. Sooner or later it would have to be acknowledged.

“Spike, I’m fine.”

“You’re still mending. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“You can’t keep me tied up in this bed forever, you know.” He saw a glint in Spike’s eyes and smiled. “Or, you know, you could admit that I’m better, and then you really _can_ tie me up, if you want.”

“You’re bent.”

“Says the vampire.” Xander made his very best puppy dog face, and hoped it worked with one eye. “C’mon, Spike. Let me up. Please. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Spike rolled his eyes, but he also stood and held an arm out. “All right. Up with you, then.”

Xander used Spike to pull himself up. He felt a little wobbly, but more from all the time lying down than from his injuries, which were mostly just pink scars now. Spike clucked over Xander like a mother hen and Xander made his way to the bathroom, and, for the first time in days, managed to piss standing up. Glory hallelujah. Then Xander washed his hands and face and looked at himself in the mirror. Not too bad. A little pale, maybe, but nothing like the vampire he could hear hovering over his shoulder, even if he couldn’t see him.

Xander spun around and rested his hands on Spike’s shoulders. “I feel good. Better than. Now, would you please tell me what the hell happened?”

Spike sighed. “All right. But you have to get back in bed first.”

“Not getting in bed now. How about if I sit?”

Spike frowned and then nodded. He followed Xander very closely as Xander made his way to the loveseat, and then Spike folded himself onto the cushion beside him. “What do you want to know, pet?”

“Last I remembered, you were throttling McDonald and I was dying, I thought. How’d you get loose? I thought he said those chains were vamp-proof.”

“They weren’t enough to hold a truly angry vampire, it seems.”

“So you were Supervamp?” Xander used his right hand to play with the curls at Spike’s neck. It worked just fine. “Huh. I guess we ought to be thanking Vega, for once.”

Spike rolled his head back more firmly against Xander’s fingers.

“How did we get back here?”

“Cowboy had a set of keys in his trousers pocket. I unchained Angel and brought him up to Lindsey’s truck. Had to half-carry him up those stairs. When he was sorted, I came back for you, carried you up and put you in Peaches’ lap.” Xander pictured himself and Angel, both unclothed, and him in Angel’s lap. He shuddered, and was glad he’d been unconscious. And invisible. “Then I grabbed Lindsey and threw him in the back of the truck. Hauled you all back here. Got the pouf a load of blood and then had to doctor you sight unseen, which was bloody difficult. Did all right, though. You didn’t die on me.”

“Why didn’t I? I think that hole in my stomach was pretty bad, and I know I lost a lot of blood. And now I’m healing way faster than usual. Did you do something to me?”

Spike looked extremely uncomfortable and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Though I nearly turned you.”

Xander stared at him. “You—“

“Couldn’t bear to lose you. I expect that witch of yours could find some way to stick your soul on.”

Xander blinked slowly at him, processing these words.

“Anyhow, I didn’t have to, did I? You kept right on breathing, all on your own, and then you mended very fast.”

“Why?”

Spike looked away. “’T’s bloody hard to kill a were, innit?”

Oh.

But Xander was still firmly in denial about that.

“What happened to McDonald?”

“He’s in the cellar.” He snorted. “Pouf has a sodding cage down there, strong enough to hold a demon. Quite handy.”

“What if he does that spell or whatever that conks out vampires?”

“Wouldn’t do him any good, all locked up. Besides, Peaches is keeping him gagged most of the time.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“I expect that’s up Angel. Can’t really kill him, can we? That doesn’t seem to do any good.”

Xander rested his head on Spike’s shoulder. “I’d better call London,” he said.

“It’s three in the morning there, love.”

“Fine. I’ll call later.” He shut his eye and listened to Spike breathe. He noticed for the first time that the odors around him were stronger. He could smell Spike, of course—leather and hair gel and copper and whiskey—but also Angel, who had the scents of charcoal and more hair gel and copper and coffee, and the antiseptic Spike had used on him, and the detergent from the sheets he’d been lying in, and the soap in Spike’s bathroom, and the wood and plaster and dust smells of the old hotel itself, and the ghosts of the scents of a thousand people who’d passed through the Hyperion’s doors. It was…interesting. It made him want to wander around and sniff at things, see what kind of tale they would tell. He hoped he wouldn’t start lifting his leg and pissing in the corner next.

“When…when do you expect they’ll come for you?” Spike said quietly.

Xander opened his eye and sat up straight. “Is that what you want?”

Spike shook his head and looked miserable.

“Spike, you know how I feel. I told you. If it were up to me, I’d stay with you.”

Spike looked at him incredulously. “What you said, then…you meant it?”

“Spike, I thought I was dying. I wasn’t gonna lie.”

“Thought you might have been delirious.”

“I wasn’t.” Xander breathed in and out, deeply, three times. “I love you, I think. I’m not very good at this. I’ve never really loved anyone before, not like that. Not even Anya.”

“Oh, Xan—“

Xander stood. “Look, I know this is stupid. You’ve been under that spell, and soon you’ll be all better, and the last thing you’ll want is a goddamn _puppy_ slobbering after you.”

Spike stood too, and grasped Xander’s shoulders. “The spell doesn’t…. I told you before. These feelings, they’re real. They’re mine. The spell only makes them…more intense. I want you. Not because you make me feel safe, although you do, and I couldn’t explain that if I tried. Because you…you give me meaning. I’m dead, Xander. Been dead a long time. You make me feel alive.” He mouth twisted into a small smile. “And you make me sound like a bloody big girl’s blouse.”

They folded into an embrace, and Xander sighed. “Will you still want me when I’m Rover?”

“I’ll get you a nice collar.”

“My fangs will be bigger than yours.”

“Fang envy, pet?”

“Pet is right.” Spike nuzzled against his old spot on Xander’s neck, which sent a small thrill down Xander’s spine. “How will you keep me from eating the neighbors when the moon is full?”

Spike chuckled into Xander’s skin. “I’ll ask Peaches for some tips. He dated a dog-girl for a while, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Spike sucked softly on Xander’s neck.

“When the spell wears off, if you don’t want me, you have to promise you’ll tell me, okay?”

“I promise, but it won’t happen.”

 

In the morning, Xander picked up the phone and stared at it gloomily. He wasn’t looking forward to this.

“Xander! Oh my goddess! What happened to you? Why haven’t you called? If my magic was back at full strength I would have teleported myself there days ago, mister. Buffy was practically ready to strap Emily in an airplane and come after you, and Giles just keeps mumbling things. What were you thinking?”

“Hi, Will.”

She sighed. “Hi, Xan. Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m doing fine, and Angel’s okay, and everything’s good.”

“Angel! Oh, that’s wonderful! But why wouldn’t you talk to us? And when are you coming home?”

Spike was sitting on the bed. With vamp hearing, Xander was sure he could hear both sides of the conversation. When Willow asked this last question, Spike tensed and looked away.

“Will, I’m…. I have a few things to tell you. And they’re kind of hard to say, so will you please just let me spit them out before you go ballistic?”

She was quiet for several moments, and then, in a calm, measured tone, she said, “Okay, Xander. Go ahead.”

Xander closed his eye and allowed himself to collapse back against the loveseat cushions. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I, um, got bit by that werewolf in Lincoln.” He heard her gasp. “The bite was no big deal or anything, but, um, I’m fairly certain that when it’s my time of the month I’m gonna get furry. But that’s not such a big deal, is it? Oz managed. And it actually kinda saved my life, because I got staked and I should’ve died, but I didn’t. I healed really well.”

“Xander—“

“Wait. There’s more.” He wondered if her eyes had gone black. “I’m in love with Spike.” Willow gasped again, but Spike blew out a puff of air and looked relieved. “That has nothing to do with the whole wolf thing. I loved him before that. And…and he kinda likes me, too.” Spike nodded. “So I’m gonna stay with him. Here, at least for now.”

Spike closed his eyes and slumped, as if a weight had been taken from him.

“Okay, Will. You can talk now.”

He winced and waited for an outburst, but all he heard was a little static. Finally, still calmly, she said, “I’ll call you later, Xander.” And she hung up.

Xander closed his phone and groaned. Spike stood and came over, and he sat next to Xander and smoothed at his hair and kissed his forehead and sucked his neck, which Xander now found as comforting as Spike did.

About ten minutes later, the phone rang.

“Hi, Giles.”

“Xander. I just had a rather interesting conversation with Willow.”

“I bet.”

“She seems to be under the impression—“

“That I’m a gay, vampire-loving werewolf?”

“Erm, yes.”

“I am.”

“Xander—“

“Look, Giles. I’m almost thirty years old. I’ve seen a lot. I’m not stupid and I don’t need an intervention. I know what I want. Honestly, I’ve never wanted anything so much. I want Spike. And…as for the wolf, I’ll deal. I’ve got a couple vamps here to babysit me when I go all Call of the Wild.”

Giles sighed loudly. “Very well, Xander. We will discuss this more later. But if you should need help…we’re here.”

“Thanks, G-Man.”

Spike had resumed nursing on Xander’s neck, and Xander was just recovering from that phone call, when the phone rang again. He looked at the number and moaned.

“Hi, Buff.”

“Xander—“

“How’s the baby? Willow says she looks just like you.”

“She’s great, Xander. But you know that’s not why I called.”

“No.”

“Xan, how does Spike feel about you?”

Xander looked at Spike, who was gazing back intently. “He says he wants me, Buff.”

“I used to think he couldn’t love anyone. But he did. He does. More intensely than anyone I’ve ever met.” Spike’s mouth was hanging open in surprise. This wasn’t the response from her either of them had expected. “Oh, Xander. If this is really what you want…you deserve someone who can love you that hard.”

“Are you giving us your blessing, Buff?”

She laughed. “Something like that. Be happy, Xander.”

Fuck. He was going to cry. “Th-Thanks.”

“I’ll get Willow and Giles to chill, don’t worry. They’re both kind of freaked right now.”

He just sniffled at her.

“And, um, Xan? Does Spike still do that thing? With his tongue? When you’re, um—“

Xander let out a completely undignified snort of laughter. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to discuss my sex life with you, Buff.”

She sighed. “Sorry. With Em and everything—never mind.”

They chatted for a few more minutes about diapers and shapeshifters and car seats. When Xander put down the phone, he felt relaxed. Happy.

“Slayer came through for you, yeah?” Spike said.

“Yeah. She did.”

 

They were on the bed, shirts off, and Xander was trying to convince Spike that he was well enough to do more than just make out. The convincing was going pretty well, actually, but then there was a loud knock at the door.

“Shit!” Xander said.

At the exact same time, Spike exclaimed, “Bugger!”

They exchanged glances and shrugged. “Come in then,” Spike grumbled.

Angel scowled at the sight of them, and made his way across the room. He sat in the hard wooden chair and looked uncomfortable. Xander hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with him since the rescue. He was looking much better now; his wounds had disappeared and he was once more muscular and substantial-looking.

Angel had told Spike the basics of what had happened to him, and Spike had passed the tale on to Xander. Angel had stopped another apocalypse. Shortly afterward, though, McDonald had showed up at his door. And just like that, he’d said the magic word, and Angel was out. He dragged him away to his lair across town and spent most of his time torturing him, just for the hell of it.

“What do you want, Peaches? You could join us, but I don’t think my boy’s up to it.”

Xander pressed his hand against his mouth to stifle a snicker, and Angel rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to know how much longer you’re planning to stay. That’s all.” He looked down at his big hands.

Xander suddenly remembered the desperation in Angel’s voice when he’d begged Xander to keep searching for Spike, just a little longer. Spike opened his mouth to say something, probably something snarky, and Xander jabbed him with an elbow. “Actually, we were thinking of sticking around for a while. If that’s all right with you.”

Angel’s head snapped up. “You’re—“ He swallowed. “That’s fine. There’s enough room for the three of us here,” he said gruffly.

Xander smiled at him, actually not detesting the vampire for the first time ever. “Good.”

“And Xander, um…thank you. For….” His voiced trailed away and he couldn’t meet Xander’s eyes.

“Sure. I got something out of the deal, too.” He slapped Spike’s flank. “But McDonald. What’re you doing with him?”

Angel looked at him, his eyes flat and a little scary. “Want to see?”

Spike and Xander followed Angel down the stairs, across the lobby, and through a door that led to another stairway. This one descended into the basement. The basement was full of boxes and stacks of things, and old, dusty furniture. But in one corner was a cell. Did everyone in LA have a cage in their basement? The stone walls of the basement itself made up two sides of the cell, and the other two were heavy iron bars. The floor was bare cement.

McDonald was hunched in the corner of the cell. He was naked. His hands, ankles, and neck were shackled together, so that if he could walk at all, it would only be in a shuffling crouch. A large ring gag was stuffed in his mouth. He was filthy and battered-looking, but nowhere near as damaged as Angel had been in his basement. The only other thing in the cell was a bucket, and Xander didn’t need his enhanced sense of smell to tell him that it was being used as a toilet. McDonald was glaring angrily at them.

“The gag keeps him from talking, but he can still eat and drink that way. But it’s kind of messy. I’m considering just ripping out his tongue.” Xander watched Angel as he spoke, and he shivered a little. Angel was looking awfully Angelus-like at the moment.

“You just gonna keep him here, then?” Xander asked.

“Yeah. Eventually his employers are gonna notice he’s gone, and maybe they’ll be able to find him here. Maybe they’ll even try to get him back. But I’m betting he’s gonna be my guest for a good, long time.” Angel had been staring at McDonald as he said this, but now he turned to Xander. “Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

Xander could feel Spike stiffen beside him. He waited for a pang of sympathy for the man to hit him, or anger at his treatment at the hands of a demon. But neither of them did. Instead, he felt kind of relieved McDonald was locked up safely out of his own reach. Xander smiled easily at the dark vampire. “No problem at all.”

“You won’t feel sorry for him? Want to rescue him? He’s human, more or less.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not anymore. Thanks to him, actually. And he tried to have Spike rubbed out, just to get him out of the way. Not feeling a whole lot of pity, here. Let him rot.” He was gratified to see that McDonald looked terrified.

Spike came up close behind Xander and pressed his body into the back of him. “Lovely, pet,” he growled into Xander’s ear.

Xander wondered how much of himself had been changed—by his various demonic possessions, by his transformation to a were-creature, by taking a vampire, albeit a souled one, as a lover. And then he decided he just didn’t give a fuck. He clapped Angel on the shoulder and led his vampire out of the basement and back into their bed.

 

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, pet. We’re nearly there.”

Xander tripped over another…something…in the hall and once again questioned the wisdom of allowing a vampire to lead him, blindfolded, through the old hotel. But then they stopped, and Xander heard a door open, and Spike tugged him through.

As soon as the warmth hit his skin he panicked and tore the cloth off his eye. “Fuck! Spike it’s day—“

The words died on his lips.

They were on the roof. Several large towels were spread on the flat surface. A big metal chest was full of ice and bottles of beer. An assortment of small containers was scattered to one side—lube and massage oils, it looked like.

And Spike.

Spike was completely naked, and his head was thrown back, his radiant smile glittering in the sunshine. His cock was fully erect. He was ethereal, otherworldly, like an angel without wings, like a statue come alive, like a deity walking the earth.

“Spike….” Xander managed.

“It’s going to be eighty degrees today, with just a bit of a breeze. Good day to work on a tan. Did you know you can see the Pacific up here?”

“Spike, why—“

Spike turned his smile toward Xander. “Full moon tonight, love. We’ll have to keep you locked up for a few days, I expect. So what better way to spend today than here, together?” He stepped closer and cupped Xander’s jaw in his hand.

“But…but didn’t you want to save the salve for…for something important?”

“This is important. You’re important. And the sodding hex is finally gone and we need to celebrate. Now, stop wasting the day with your gob hanging open. Let’s have us a pint or two.”

Before he knew it, Xander was as bare as Spike and stretched out on his back on one of those towels. The cold glass of his beer bottle was sweating pleasantly in his hand, while Spike was rubbing some kind of lotion into his chest. He thought it was heaven. But then Spike gently took the bottle away and layered himself over Xander, and he knew he was one of very few people in the world—maybe the only one—who knew the pleasure of having a sun-warmed vampire writhing deliciously on top of him.

They kissed deeply. Spike tasted of beer and blood, and the flavor of blood got Xander even more excited, until he was trying to lick every trace of it out of the inside of Spike’s mouth. Absently, he noted that he’d be wanting some very rare steak for dinner tonight. Then Spike was nibbling and licking at his neck as Xander clutched at the slightly slippery silky skin of his ass. “Maybe I can tame my wolf,” Spike purred into his ear. “Teach him to bite nicely, yeah?” Deep inside of Xander, something growled an affirmative. It felt familiar, like the hyena, only stronger. He liked it.

Spike sat up and smiled broadly. He grasped Xander’s cock firmly in one hand and then lowered himself down on it. Xander moaned and watched Spike ride him, his face turned up to the sky and the sun shining like a halo over him.

When he couldn’t stand it a second longer, Xander grabbed Spike’s hips. With strength and speed he hadn’t possessed a few weeks ago, he flipped them over without disengaging from his lover. Spike wrapped his legs tightly around Xander’s waist and grinned. His face morphed, and now the eyes looking up at Xander were yellow and the teeth in the smile were long and sharp.

Xander howled.

And then he bent down, and Spike bit him, and a climax rumbled through both of them like a freight train. Minutes later, they were still thrusting against each other, still shuddering with the strength of their release.

Spike withdrew his fangs and ran a sharp tongue up Xander’s jaw.

Xander bent his head a little and gnawed lightly on Spike’s neck until Spike gasped and mewled beneath him. “Hey,” Xander said. “Didn’t you say something about a collar?” Spike laughed and squeezed his ass, and Xander laughed back at him.

“You know, I was thinking,” Xander said, flopping beside Spike, and reaching over to play with one of his vampire’s hardened nipples.

“Dangerous, that.”

Xander tweaked a little harder. “If I’m gonna stay here a while—“

“_We’re_ going to stay here a while.”

“If we’re gonna stay here a while, I can knock the wall between your room—“

“Our room, pet.”

“Between our room and the next. Maybe even the one after that. Make us a nice suite.”

“Bigger than the pouf’s?”

“Bigger than the pouf’s.”

“You can do that, love?”

“Sure. I was a carpenter once, remember? And I’ve kept my hand in, every now and then, fixing stuff up for the Council.”

Spike caught at Xander’s hand and sucked for a moment on Xander’s index finger, which felt incredibly nicer than it should have. “That’d be nice, Xan. Could you install a big bath for us? Big enough for two?”

“Can do. And I was thinking, maybe a nice, comfy, secure cage.”

“Kinky.”

“For when I’m more of the canine persuasion. ‘Cause…if I’m gonna be incarcerated, I’d rather it be near you. ” Xander pulled his hand out of Spike’s grip and moved it to Spike’s belly, which was sticky. He rubbed his fingers in the fine hairs that led south of Spike’s navel. Then he grasped Spike’s cock, which was hard—still or again, he wasn’t sure—and softy stroked the damp, silky skin.

Spike rolled onto his side and nuzzled against Xander’s neck. “Sounds lovely,” he purred. Then he pushed Xander onto his back and his mouth began working its way down Xander’s body.

They spent the whole day on the roof, making love, dozing, sipping beer, talking. By late afternoon, Spike’s skin had turned slightly pink from the sun, and both of them were feeling perfectly sated. They sat against the wall of the stairwell, arms around each other, watching the waves far away. Spike’s head rested on Xander’s shoulder.

Xander wondered how he was going to gather the energy to go back downstairs before sunset, so Spike could chain him up for the night. Spike would eventually tame the wolf in him, he could feel it. Hell, he could be a big help to the vampires, taking a bite out of crime and everything. But for a while some security was called for. Would the vampires be able to get him something tasty to chew on tonight, maybe a big hunk of meat with the bone still on, or, hmmm, even something still alive? He remembered the feel of Herbert the pig in his jaws, and instead of being grossed out, he felt his stomach rumble hungrily. So yeah, he was going to have to build a really strong cage, but maybe he ought to make sure it was easily cleaned. But not too uncomfortable. Did they have dog beds in his size? Speaking of comfortable, if Angel was going to keep Lindsey for a while, Xander could probably find a way to get some plumbing going in that cell, because the bucket was pretty offensive to everyone’s noses. Hmm. Maybe Willow could give them a spell to keep Lindsey quiet without removal of body parts. Not that the bastard didn’t deserve to have several removed. And in his and Spike’s room, with those walls torn down, he could build a big bathroom, and put in a giant tub like Spike asked for, maybe with Jacuzzi jets, yeah, that’d be good, and he could expand one of the windows, install some shutters so there’d be better sun protection. He could build a little kitchen, too, like Angel had, because the big one downstairs was too big and kind of creepy, really, and besides the fridge and microwave Spike already had, all he needed was a sink and a small stove, and—

Spike tilted his head up and gave him a slow, sweet, sexy smile, filled with true affection and the promise of what was to come. Xander grinned back. And he realized that, while his head was full as ever, now so was his heart.

 

_~~~fin~~~_


End file.
